Just Another Jane Doe
by JamiW
Summary: Casefile / romance, with spoilers from Jane Doe #38 through Zoo Story.
1. Chapter 1

**Andy POV**

* * *

><p>The call came in at two-thirty a.m.<p>

It's certainly not unusual for my phone to ring at that time of night, so I answered it on autopilot, already getting up to get dressed as I said hello in anticipation of hearing the particulars on the latest crime scene.

"I'm sorry to call you at this time of night, Lieutenant, but I think there's something you'll want to see."

"Dr. Morales?" I questioned, my mind needing to play catch up, since it was the ME instead of my partner, or another member of the squad.

"Yes, I'm sorry," he said again, and I can tell he's flustered. Upset, maybe.

He's not the type to get easily rattled, nor does he often make late night calls, so my radar is up.

"It's fine," I assured him. "What is it?"

"I'd rather let you see for yourself," he answered. "I could be wrong, but…well, we both know _that _doesn't happen very often."

He chuckled at his own joke, but it felt forced.

Again, atypical.

"I'm guessing you're at the morgue?" I confirmed.

"Yes."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

I hung up and hesitated for a few seconds as I mulled over the odd conversation, but then I forced myself into action, since I'd stalled in my plan, merely standing in the middle of my bedroom while I talked with him. But now I moved quickly to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. An inadvertent glance in the mirror had me sticking my head under the faucet, too, in an effort to control the bed-head.

Once finished, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a button-down, clipped my gun and badge to my belt, and then grabbed my cell and keys and headed for the door.

True to my word, I entered the morgue twenty minutes after the doc's call.

"Kind of creepy in here at night, isn't it?" he greeted me without looking up, which tells me he doesn't really find it creepy at all. Otherwise, he would've visually confirmed that it's me.

I started to make a smartass reply, but then I noticed that the body on the table in front of him was a kid.

There's nothing funny about a kid in the morgue. Ever.

"So, uh...what can I do for you, Doc?"

From across the room, he brought his eyes up to meet mine.

"I need you to take a look at her," he answered.

"Yeah, uh, isn't that your job?" I deflected with no small amount of reluctance, staying put in my spot near the door.

"Lieutenant," he responded, not with a sigh or with an eye roll - both of which would've been expected - but just quiet urging, so I took a deep breath and crossed the room, moving to stand opposite him, with the autopsy table between us.

I held his gaze though, still not looking down, until he finally nodded at me and dropped his eyes to the victim.

"Jane Doe number fifty-one," he stated.

A young girl. Ten. Maybe eleven.

Long brown hair. Olive skin.

I felt a knot hardening in my stomach as it occurred to me why Dr. Morales wanted me to see her.

And yet at the same time, it would be impossible. Right?

"I don't have to ask if she looks familiar to you," he said gravely, my expression having given me away.

"Still," I countered. "We only saw her in one picture."

"I told myself the same thing," he agreed, and then he gently took hold of the girl's shoulders, tilting her towards him so that I could see her back. "And then I saw this."

Cigarette burns. Some recent, some scarred.

The bile began to rise in my throat.

"These aren't that old. Even the healed ones are probably only six months, maybe a year. The fresher ones probably go back about two or three weeks."

"What happened to her?" I mumbled, my eyes fixated on the abuse until he eased her onto her back again, breaking the spell so that I was able to try to think more like a detective. I looked over to the light board where x-ray films were posted as I clarified, "I mean, at the end."

"Hit and run," he answered. "She was brought in a few hours ago. Broken ankle, crushed ribs, cracked skull…"

He trailed off and then pulled the sheet over the girl's head as he let out a heavy sigh.

"And that's not all," he said after a moment. "I also found evidence of rape."

"What?" I asked sharply.

"Not recent," he explained. "But her hymen is broken, and there's evidence of tearing. Scars in various stages of healing. Best guess, I'd say it started around the same time as the burns."

"Oh my God," I said under my breath.

"Traffic has whatever personal effects came in with her. It's their case for now," he informed me, but I was already pulling out my cell.

"For now," I emphasized as I hit speed dial. I glanced at him once more as I said with sincerity, "I appreciate the call."

I whirled around and left the autopsy room, suddenly desperate to get out of there, and as I entered the hall, she answered the phone.

"Yes, Lieutenant, what can I do for you?" she said, her words practiced but her voice still thick with sleep. Normally I would've felt bad for waking her, but not tonight.

"Captain, I feel like I should warn you that I'm about to go piss some people off in Traffic."

"Lieutenant, if you're going to start giving me the courtesy of a preemptive phone call every time you intend to ruffle feathers, then you and I are going to spend a _lot_ of time on the phone."

She's fully awake now, I can tell, and ordinarily her sense of humor would've had me smiling, but I'm too mad. I'm too upset. I'm too…everything.

"I'm at the morgue," I said, getting straight to the point. "The doc just finished an exam on a girl who was killed in a hit and run tonight."

"Hit and run sounds like Traffic," she said, her tone measured. She's still trying to figure out my ire, I can tell.

"It does," I agreed. "Unless it's a girl with obvious signs of sexual abuse. A girl who looks like the one in the photograph with Alice."

There was a full minute of silence as she absorbed my news, and then I heard rustling as she presumably got out of bed, and any other night I might have enjoyed picturing that for a brief moment or two, but tonight I simply paced the hall in the morgue and awaited her response.

"I'll meet you outside Traffic Division in half an hour."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you hear what I said? _Outside_," she stated firmly. "Don't go in without me."

"I got it. Thank you, Captain."

I hung up the phone and leaned against the wall for a minute, hoping to garner some control over my emotions.

I mean, I'll be the first to admit that the Alice mystery has haunted me.

A fifteen year old girl, thoughtlessly tossed into a dumpster, taken out with the trash. A girl we still can't identify, two months after her death.

I've read over her file countless times, hoping to see something new, but all I've accomplished is being able to _see_ the file without even looking at it. I know it word for word.

Finding out her name won't bring her back, I know, but she _deserves_ to have someone care enough about her to make the effort.

And now we have her sister in the morgue.

It's still supposition that this is the girl from the picture, and that the girl from the picture is even her sister, but I know it in my gut.

She must not have had any identifying information on her, since she was sent to the morgue as a Jane Doe, but that doesn't mean there won't be a clue of some sort, in a pants' pocket, or a backpack…

I glanced at my watch and realized that almost ten minutes have passed since I spoke with the captain, so I headed for the elevators.

She might have said thirty minutes, but knowing her, it'll be half that. I have no idea how she can be awakened from a dead sleep and arrive at a crime scene looking so…perfect, but she does.

It's a mystery in and of itself.

I mean, I had to shove my whole head under the bathroom faucet this morning, and I'm pretty sure I still resemble a rooster.

But not the captain.

She's chronically beautiful.

I almost feel guilty for thinking about her inappropriately at a time like this, considering what I've just seen, but maybe it'll be good for me to take my mind off of Alice's sister for a few minutes.

And the most logical topic to achieve that purpose is my obsession with Sharon.

It's one-sided.

That hurts a little.

Not that _she_ hurt me, because she would never do that, but I mean it's tough to realize that something I want, some_one_ I want as much as I want her, it's just never going to happen.

For a while there, I thought it might.

We became friends, good friends.

We still are, actually.

Although I've had to back off a little. Self-preservation on my part, because I did something stupid.

See, it was after the memorial we held for Alice.

_"Dinner?"_ she asked me softly as the others filed out of the room ahead of us.

We were having dinner together four and five times a week at the point. Sometimes with Rusty, sometimes not, but always just as friends.

_"I'd like that,_" I agreed immediately.

At her suggestion, we met at one of my favorite restaurants. She was trying to cheer me up, I could tell. She was much more talkative than usual, and even shared a couple of funny stories from when she was a rookie, offering me laughter at her expense.

I was already long-since in love with her, but that night, I fell in love with her all over again.

And when I walked her to her car, I couldn't help but notice the softness in her eyes, and the way the wind gently lifted her hair, and how her lips curved into a warm smile, and I found myself pleasantly lost in her.

So I kissed her.

I didn't plan it ahead of time - because I would've put a stop to it, I'm sure - but rather just reacted to the moment, sliding my hands into her hair and tipping her head up towards mine, and then brushing my lips over hers, tentative only for a split second and then giving in to my pressing desire for more.

It was passionate and emotional and yet familiar, as if we've been kissing each other all our lives, and I never wanted it to end.

But then she took a step back.

_"Andy, I…I can't do this,_" she said, her voice shaking as much as her hand that raked through her hair.

_"I'm sorry,"_ I said immediately.

She opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again as her eyes turned glassy with unshed tears, and my euphoria from moments ago turned to sheer panic.

But she patted her hand against my chest as she struggled for words, and then she said, "_Please don't be sorry. It's my fault for…well, maybe it was inevitable."_

_Inevitable_ wasn't the descriptive I hoped for, not when I had words like _amazing_ and_ incredible_ and_ inspiring_ rolling around in my head.

I guess that told me everything I needed to know.

She's my _friend_, not my…anything more.

When I didn't respond, she managed a small, sad smile before leaning in to press her lips against my cheek in a lingering kiss, and then she turned and got into her car.

We never talked about the kiss.

The next day at work, I tried to keep a little more distance between us. I tried not to linger behind her during briefings or wait expectantly to join her for interviews.

I just did my job, and she did hers, and after a couple of weeks, she asked me out to dinner again.

_"I've missed our meals together," _she confided, giving me a meaningful gaze.

How could I say no to her?

Because even though we've never talked about our kiss, I've_ thought_ about it every single day.

And I _know_ she was there with me, in the moment. She responded, I'm sure of it.

But for whatever reason, it's off the table, and I'll learn to live with it. I value her friendship too much not to.

But like I said, it still hurts.

"Andy."

I turned from my latest spot, leaning against the wall in the hall outside of Traffic, having arrived just a few minutes ago, and I saw Sharon approaching.

As predicted, she's beautiful.

Black pants, red top, black jacket, black boots…it's her ass-kicking outfit, and I like that she put it on at three in the morning to come have my back with Traffic.

"Are you alright?" she asked, pausing in front of me and putting her hand on my arm.

"I'm not going to quit on this," I said, and for a moment, her mask shifted, and she looked vulnerable and soft and I felt this pull in my gut that had me fighting back the urge to kiss her again.

_Not smart to stand so close to her,_ I chastised myself, although in my defense, I've got my back against the wall. She's the one standing close to me.

"This," she repeated carefully.

"I'm going to find out who killed this little girl," I clarified, and as I said the words, I noticed her professionalism slip back into place. Curious, but I can't think about that right now.

"And who abused her," I continued. "And Alice. And I need both of their names. I have to know it all."

"Okay," she agreed with an understanding nod. "First things first. Let's go make this hit and run a Major Crime."

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sharon POV**

* * *

><p>"This is it?"<p>

It was Andy's interrogative, but it mirrored my thoughts exactly as the Traffic officer handed over a single sheet of paper, the sum total of the investigation to date on the hit and run.

"What do you want, Flynn?" the officer said with a shrug. "It's only been four hours."

"Hey, asshole, it's standard procedure to do an immediate canvass for witnesses. To pull traffic cam footage," Andy fired back, and I reached out to put my hand on his arm in an effort to rein in his temper, even as he ground out purposefully, "To _give_ a damn about the victim."

"I give a damn," the officer retorted, taking a step towards Andy. "And I don't need you coming down from Major Crimes to tell me how to do my job."

"Looks to me like you do," Andy snapped.

"Gentlemen," I said sharply, tightening my hold on Andy's arm. "We're all on the same side here. Officer Casey, if you'll give us the personal effects, we'll take this case off your hands."

"Since when is a Jane Doe hit and run a Major Crime?" he asked with attitude, and I'm _this_ close to writing him up for insubordination.

"Since the captain of Major Crimes says so," Andy retorted smartly. I might have said it with a little more decorum but I can't fault his sentiment. The bottom line is that I don't _need_ a reason, or at least I don't have to give one to him.

"If you have a problem with it, I'd be more than happy to meet you in Chief Taylor's office so that the three of us can discuss it," I offered with false sweetness.

I held his gaze challengingly while he weighed his options, and then he wisely backed down, turning to his desk to gather the requested items.

Andy is still livid, and I know it's more than this officer's lax attitude in regards to the case. It's the case itself. It's the tragedy that Alice escaped from an abusive home, only to end up dead on the streets of Los Angeles, and then somehow her sister followed in her footsteps.

"Here," the officer said gruffly as he shoved a small box in Andy's direction. "Clothes, shoes, string pack…that's it. Good luck with it."

"Yes, thank you," I said with heat as I nudged Andy towards the door. "And good luck ever finding your way out of Traffic."

Andy started to say something, but I gave him a discouraging _ah-ah-ah, _and to his credit, he kept his mouth shut. It won't do any good to attempt a parting shot at Officer Casey. However, I will _definitely_ be sending an email to his superior, detailing what happened tonight, both with the inadequate investigation and his surly attitude.

"Can you believe that guy?" Andy asked me once we were back out in the hall.

"You were questioning his work," I reasoned.

"You're taking his side?" he asked me incredulously, and the intensity of his gaze struck me speechless for a moment.

For someone normally so easygoing, he has the ability to be instantly passionate, and it's a disconcerting juxtaposition of emotion, especially when that passion is suddenly directed at me.

_Like that night two months ago._

One minute we were walking along having light, pleasant conversation and the next he was overwhelming my senses with an unexpected and yet utterly arousing kiss.

I can't count the number of times since then that I've wondered where we'd be if I hadn't stopped it that night.

"Of course not," I said to him at last. "But his incompetency isn't important anymore. It's our case now."

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still searching mine, and I can see that he's trying to get his emotions under control. I'm not sure which aspect of this case has touched his soul, but it's something, and that's okay. We all have cases like this one.

He took a deep breath and his eyes softened, and it hit me that we're standing too close to each other, something we really haven't done since the kiss, or at least not until a few minutes ago, when I first arrived.

He was waiting for me, leaning against the wall, and as I stopped in front of him, the way he looked me over…I don't know, it felt intimate and I found myself moving close to him and seeking out some sort of contact, so I put my hand on his arm.

_"Are you alright?"_ I asked him, knowing how much he's troubled by this case.

I wished he'd called me sooner, so that I could've been with him at the morgue, and maybe provided him with a sense of support.

_"I'm not going to quit on this,_" he answered, his eyes first looking down at where my hand rested on his forearm before meeting mine, and I could see the pain in them, and for a moment, I foolishly thought he was referring to me - to _us._

But of course he meant the case. And why wouldn't he? The case is why we're out here in the middle of the night.

And besides that, there_ is_ no us. I made that clear after he kissed me.

"You're right," he said, agreeing to my statement that it's now our case. "Okay, so I was thinking we should go to the scene of the accident first, and then…"

"First we need to go upstairs and brief the team," I interrupted gently.

"The team? It's not even four a.m."

"I know, but I called Lieutenant Provenza after I spoke with you. He was going to wake everyone and have them meet us in the murder room."

"You did?" he asked in surprise. "I mean, technically it's just a hit and run, so…"

"Andy, we're a team. We'll work that aspect first, and hopefully we'll find leads for her identity, which should then help us learn Alice's real name."

He continued to watch me, still standing so close that I can smell him - toothpaste and aftershave and maybe something else that I can't put my finger on - and then he flashed me a small smile.

"Aren't we kind of breaking the rules here?" he asked, only partly teasing, and again I had the initial thought that he means us, lingering in the darkened hall with only scant inches between us.

But of course - _again_ - he's talking about the case.

"Major Crimes has the authority to take over any case, especially if it may relate in some way to a previous case," I stated primly, and then I had to smile, too. It's a stretch, and we both know it. "Okay, we're bending the rules just a little. So let's make sure we find a name for Alice, and then we'll be able to tie it all together with a nice, neat bow."

"Yes, ma'am."

Fifteen minutes later, I stood in front of the board in the murder room, marker in hand, while the majority of my team tossed out facts to be added, and strategies to consider.

"The corner across the street is a dealer hot spot," Julio informed us. "Somebody there might have seen something."

"You think dealers are going to chat up the police?" Provenza asked skeptically.

"Nobody likes seeing little kids get plowed down in the streets, sir."

Provenza nodded in concession, so I jotted down _dealers_ and then turned back towards the room.

"There's a bus station three blocks from the scene," Andy said. "And she still had twenty-eight dollars in her pocket, so I'm wondering how much cash a girl her age could've had to begin with."

"You think she just got into town?" I questioned. Andy shrugged noncommittally, but I put it on the board anyway. "Take her picture to the bus station and see if anyone remembers her. If she did just get here, it shouldn't be hard to find out where her journey began."

"I'm sorry!" Amy said, trotting into the room and looking flustered. "I know I should've been here ten minutes ago, and I'm…"

She trailed off and looked around the room as we all stared at her, and then she finished meekly, "Making it worse by interrupting the briefing with my apology."

"It's fine, Detective," I said with a smile. "It's not always easy to get moving before the sun comes up."

"Especially when Lieutenant Cooper still has you tied to the bed," Julio joked. He said it quietly, probably intending for only her to hear, but in the silent room, his voice traveled.

Amy rolled her eyes and then threw a pen at Julio, and I waited for a minute to let the squad have fun with her, since she was laughing, too.

Would they tease Andy like this, if he and I were ever to start a real relationship? I can't imagine they would go so far as to torment _me_, but he'd be fair game, I'm sure.

I find nothing wrong with detectives poking fun at one another, especially during a difficult case, but the thought of _my_ personal life being out there - of my detectives knowing who's in my bed at night - it's daunting.

And then I shook my head, embarrassed at my own thoughts, because Andy's _not_ in my bed.

_"Hey, did you and Flynn break up or something?" _

That's what Rusty asked me a week after Andy and I stopped having dinner together. A week after the kiss.

I turned to look at him, where he was watching me with concern.

_"Rusty, honey, I told you we aren't dating," _I answered, forcing my voice to sound casual.

It was the truth - we weren't dating. But the fact that it's been seven days since we saw each other outside of the office was creating a noticeable hole in my heart.

_"I know that's what you said, but come on, Sharon. I'm not a little kid. I notice things."_

_"What kind of things?" _I asked with curiosity, suddenly needing to know what it is that he sees when he's with us.

_"Well, for starters, you don't have dinner with Provenza five nights a week," _he said with a smile.

He was baiting me, I think, playing it off to see whether or not I would let it go.

I didn't.

_"That's not much of an argument,"_ I deflected.

_"You need proof?_" he asked in amusement, warming up to the idea that I was welcoming his opinion on something so off-limits as me and Andy. "_Okay, he looks at you. Like, all the time."_

He looked skyward as if it were the most confounding bit of evidence ever, and then he continued by saying, _"And you look at him, too. And you touch his arm and stuff."_

_"It's customary to look at someone when having a conversation."_

_"Not like that it's not,"_ he insisted dramatically. "_And you laugh more when he's around than any other time."_

That last part was said with seriousness and when I didn't respond - when I _couldn't_ respond because his observations had me flooded with emotion - he asked me again, _"So, you two didn't break up, did you?"_

"_Rusty, I'm not dating. I'm still a married woman,"_ I said on a sigh.

_"Oh my God, are you kidding me with that?"_ he asked, his voice suddenly loud as he started pacing the room. _"Sharon, you've been separated for like, ever."_

_"Separated is still married,"_ I stated. "_And I think that's enough discussion about that._"

The conversation ended, but my thoughts about it didn't.

It's true, I'm still married. I served Jack with papers about ten days prior to that conversation with Rusty, but he still hadn't signed. Although as much as I value the sanctity of marriage vows, I'll admit to having given up on ours. It took me a dozen years longer than it took Jack, but I have gone out on dates, so that's not why I put a stop to things with Andy. It's just an easy excuse.

_One which I no longer have_, I thought. Because a month ago, Jack finally signed. Any day now, I'll be single again.

"Okay, we cracked the case of why Sykes was late," Andy's voice rang out, pulling me back into the moment. "So can we focus again on Janie?"

Our slightly more personal designation for Jane Doe # 51.

"Yes, Lieutenant," I agreed quickly. "Detectives Sykes and Sanchez, go talk nicely to the inhabitants at the corner of Central and East 43rd. Lieutenants Provenza and Tao, go over the crime scene again for any evidence Traffic may have missed, and then see if you can locate any potential witnesses. Buzz, if you'll request the traffic cam feed, going out as far as a one mile radius from the accident. Lieutenant Flynn and I will check the bus station, and the café listed on the receipt we found in her pocket."

Her belongings didn't prove overly useful, but we did gather a few minor leads, and one very important one.

She had the identical picture, the one of her with Alice next to what looks like the Gateway Arch.

She also had the café receipt, showing she ate a grilled cheese sandwich about an hour before she was killed.

One complete change of clothes. Twenty-eight dollars. Chapstick. A worn out copy of _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. _

And a small stuffed unicorn.

_"Look at this," _Andy said earlier, when he was going through her string pack. We'd just stepped into the murder room, and no one else had arrived yet. "_What is it about little girls and unicorns?_" he asked sadly as he held up the plush animal.

_"Universal beauty," _I answered, offering him a smile as I added, "_And it's not just **little** girls."_

_"If you tell me you sleep with a stuffed unicorn…" _he replied, not finishing his sentence, but watching me expectantly, and I was glad for the shift in focus because I can't let him get too far down the rabbit hole on this one. I know it's a journey he needs to make, but I have to be sure he can still find his way back out.

_"No, but Emily does. Or at least, I know she took it with her to New York."_

_"Huh,"_ he replied, still regarding me closely, and I was suddenly very aware of the fact that he's pondering what I may or may not sleep with.

Or maybe he's thinking about _who_ I might sleep with.

Or maybe _I'm_ the one thinking about who I might sleep with.

Dangerous, dangerous territory.

"And the clothes," Amy spoke up, once again capturing my focus. "Shouldn't we check to see if the brands are maybe specific to a certain region?"

"Excellent idea, Amy. Andy, I assume Dr. Morales was running the girl's DNA through the system, just to be sure?"

"Yes, ma'am, prints, too," he answered.

I turned and put my full focus back on the board, mulling over the facts as I listened to the sounds of the others gathering their things in preparation to carry out my directives. When most everyone had left, I felt Andy come up behind me.

Close, again, but not too close. I'm not sure when I started noticing little things like the amount of space between us. I could say it was probably the night he kissed me, but that would be a lie.

It was long before that.

"Are you ready?" I asked, turning around to face him, but I found him staring at the board, a dogged expression on his face.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" I asked, using his title to counteract our close proximity.

"It makes me wonder…if we'd learned Alice's identity two months ago, when we were investigating her murder, would this little girl be in our morgue right now? Or could we have exposed her abuser, maybe even before Janie's abuse began? Because you know it's the same guy…Alice ran away, and Janie was her replacement. It's a father or step-father, or an uncle…"

"It's not like we haven't been looking," I reminded him gently.

"I know, but…"

He stopped for a moment, before bringing his eyes to mine with quiet desperation as he added, "What if there's another little girl in that house? Just because there are only two in the picture…"

A possibility I hadn't considered.

And I'm well aware of the fact that once we find Janie's killer, our investigation will have run its course, due to jurisdictional issues. I mean, I've spoken confidently about seeing it through to its end, but I'm not sure how we'll be able to do that.

But I do know one thing.

Andy's right.

The girls' deaths in L.A. were a tragic byproduct of what happened to them somewhere else.

And one way or another, we can't stop until find the person responsible.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Andy POV**

* * *

><p>"I had no idea who he was, and when he tried to tell me, I insisted that he stop talking, get out of the vehicle, and put his hands flat on the hood."<p>

Sharon's story about frisking a then-Deputy Chief of Operations during a traffic stop had me laughing.

Again.

Is it any wonder I value our friendship so much?

We've worked closely together all day, on one of the hardest cases of my career, and she's managed to make me laugh at least half a dozen times. Purposely, I mean. She knows I'm struggling, so she's pulling out all the stops in an effort to keep me sane.

God, I love her.

At the moment, it's nearly eight o'clock in the evening, and we're having dinner together, back at my favorite place.

We haven't been here since _that _night, and the memory of how it felt to kiss her is more tangible than ever. I've almost been able to put the case completely out of my mind.

At least temporarily, and for that I'm grateful because originally I'd expected to spend a long, sleepless night thinking about Janie and Alice.

Although I'll give my partner credit for trying to help me out, too.

_"Come with me to Monty's. You can watch me get drunk,"_ he suggested, coming up to my desk as I prepared to leave.

"_That's a hell of an offer,"_ I replied smartly. _ "But no thanks."_

_"Come on, Flynn,"_ he persisted, and then he lowered his voice to something expressing concern as he added, "_You don't want to go straight home. Too much time to think isn't good for anyone."_

_"I'm fine," _I promised. _"It's been a long day, and I'm exhausted. I'm sure I'll go right to sleep."_

A lie, of course, but he accepted it, patting me on the back as he turned to leave.

A moment later, the captain came out of her office, and I felt that familiar rush of excitement when she caught my eye. That undeniable sense of innate connection reaffirmed by the fact that she didn't even have to say a word. She raised her eyebrow in question, from across the room, and I nodded in return.

She waved goodnight to everyone and headed out, and I was a minute behind, hurrying down the hall to where she was waiting, holding open the elevator doors.

_"I thought you might want to get some dinner,"_ she said, once we were enshrouded in the privacy of the elevator. _"Unless you're too tired."_

_"Dinner would be nice,"_ I agreed quickly.

So that's how we ended up here, with her telling me yet another amusing tale from her time as a beat cop.

"It was an honest mistake," she continued as she chuckled along with me. "His plates matched a want for a stolen vehicle."

"How did _that _happen?" I asked as she paused to take a sip of her wine. My eyes were drawn to her lips for a moment, and I had to force myself to shift my gaze upwards.

"Apparently," she said conspiratorially, drawing out the four syllables as her eyes danced with amusement. "I somehow transposed two of the digits."

"So they _didn't_ match," I pointed out. "How much trouble were you in?"

"Andy Flynn kind of trouble," she replied, laughing again as she shook her head and amended, "No, not really. He was actually impressed that I would follow procedure, no matter who was involved. I didn't admit that I didn't recognize him."

We put our conversation on hold as the waiter served our food, and I found myself just watching her. Still beautiful after a seventeen hour day. She caught me staring, and instead of looking away, she held my gaze, a half smile on her face as the waiter made sure everything was just so.

"Thank you for today," I said when he finally left.

"Everyone contributed," she deflected. "We'll have our arrest warrant in the morning, I'm sure."

I wasn't referring to the case. I meant how much she's helped me today, on a personal level, how she's been such solid support.

But I didn't correct her because I think she knows what I meant, so I'm not going to push it. I can't make the mistake again of making things too personal.

And I _am_ happy about the progress on the case. She's right, we'll be ready to get a warrant in the morning.

Tao left not long after we did, but his computer is working overtime, crunching through records to match up a partial plate number with vehicle color, make, and model.

Because our diligence today paid off.

Sanchez coaxed a dealer to talk to him.

_"He said he heard the thud,_" Sanchez told us grimly. "_And when he looked to the street, he saw a pickup truck driving away."_

It was apparently too dark for him to be able to pinpoint the color, but Tao found paint flecks in the blood stain on the road.

_"Barcelona Red,"_ he announced triumphantly after having the fleck analyzed. "_Used on late model Toyota Tacomas."_

Buzz managed to spot the vehicle in the traffic cam footage, in spite of the fact there were technical issues with the cameras near the actual accident, but once Tao narrowed down the vehicle type, Buzz found it on the next street over, and blew it up enough to capture four digits on the plates.

So while we're all home getting a good night's sleep, the computer is finding the vehicle in question. And sure, it'll probably spit out several possibilities, but it shouldn't be too hard to narrow it down. The vehicle will have definite front end damage.

The downside to our speedy investigation is that we've netted very little about the girl herself, and if we arrest her killer tomorrow, I know it's going to be a struggle for the captain to justify our continued involvement. Sharon and I worked those leads today, but it didn't go as well as we hoped.

The bus station employees seemed to revel in their own ignorance.

_"Have you seen this girl?_" I asked the man at the ticket window, holding up the photo of Alice and Janie. "_The younger one._"

_"Do you have any idea how many people come through this place every day?"_

_"A little girl on her own," _the captain clarified, squeezing in beside me so that we could both peer through the small window. "_Surely she would stand out amongst the other travelers."_

_"I take their money and I hand them a ticket,_" he answered with a shrug. _ "Half the time I don't even look up."_

I started to say something smart, but Sharon tugged on my arm and we moved a few steps away.

_"He's a waste of our time. She didn't buy the ticket here, and he's completely oblivious,"_ she reasoned, and then she pointed to a janitor who was emptying a trash can. "_Let's try him."_

_"Yeah, I saw her,"_ the janitor responded when I showed him the picture. _"Two nights ago, she slept on that bench right there."_

He pointed across the lobby to a bench along the far wall, near the restrooms.

"_Did you talk to her?"_

_"I did,_" he replied. _ "I told her that sleeping in the bus station isn't allowed."_

_"You kicked her out?"_ I asked incredulously. _"She's ten years old!"_

_"Not my problem,"_ he said dismissively as he went back to his task.

_"Unbelievable," _I muttered. We stood for a moment, each of us turning slowly, taking in our surroundings and trying to think like a little girl…where would she have gone from here?

_"Let's get a dump on that pay phone,"_ the captain suggested, gesturing towards the dated piece of equipment located halfway between the bench and the restrooms. _"I mean, we're assuming she came out here to find Alice, right?"_

_"Right,"_ I agreed with a nod. "_So she would've called her cell."_

_"Uh huh. And I'd like to see who else she called, when she found out that cell doesn't work anymore."_

We called Tao to get him working on that, and then we requested the bus schedule from two days ago, since that might be when Janie first arrived, and then we went across the street to the café where the girl had her last meal.

_"Karen worked last night, but she's off today,"_ the woman at the register informed us.

_"She was the only one here?_" I asked.

_"One cook, one busboy, one waitress…that's all we need after nine on a Wednesday night, and I doubt anyone but Karen came out of the back."_

_"The busboy doesn't clear the tables? He might have seen her," _Sharon insisted, taking the photo from my hand and encouraging the girl to look at it.

_"Not when there's no manager on duty,_" she said with an eye roll. _ "But come back tomorrow, and you can ask Karen."_

_"What about a home address?" _

_"Uh uh. She was going up to Lompoc to see her old man. She'll be gone all day."_

Not what we wanted to hear, but at least it's something.

"Do you think the waitress will know anything?" I asked.

"Maybe," Sharon responded. "A young girl alone might have prompted the waitress to start a conversation."

I nodded thoughtfully, and we were both quiet for a long moment, and then she surprised me by reaching across the table and putting her hand over mine.

"I think we need to talk, Andy," she said softly.

I can't hardly think straight from the feel of her hand on mine and her low, intimate tone and the caring look in her eyes.

"About what?" I asked carefully when I found my voice.

I mean, I know we've been talking about the case, and yet her expression and demeanor and body language all suggest that she's moved on from that to something more personal.

But that can't be.

I must be reading her wrong. I've done it before, and I can't afford to do it again.

It _must_ be that she wants to discuss how this case has sucked me in.

Or maybe she's going to tell me that we'll have to stop once we catch the driver.

_It's work related_, my mind insisted, even as the warmth of her hand filled me with hope.

"I think you know what," she answered.

It's not like her to be vague, so I can tell that this is hard for her, this discussion she thinks we need to have, and now I'm pretty sure it _must_ be personal because she's not afraid to handle any professional topic, and even though I didn't notice at first, now I can tell that she seems nervous.

She's taking shallow breaths and her hand is quivering slightly, and with her other hand, she reached for her wine glass again. She took a healthy drink from it, and then set it back down and at my continued silence, she finally added, "Something we should've talked about two months ago."

"Okay," I said cautiously, and while her words confirm the topic of impending discussion, I'm still in denial that there's potential for her to say anything _good_.

If she wants to talk about the kiss, then it's to tell me once more how it can't happen again. Or maybe that we can't even be friends outside of work anymore.

"Not tonight. You've got too much on your mind," she said, easing her hand from mine and sitting back in her chair. "But soon. After this case."

"It's…um…is it…um…"

Yeah, that's all I managed to say. Hard to believe she hasn't fallen head over heels for a smooth talker like me, right?

She smiled at my stumbling effort, but I'm still feeling off kilter and slightly paranoid.

I want to force the issue, to make her talk to me now, but I respect her too much.

I _trust_ her too much.

If she thinks we should wait, then we'll wait. Hell, I've already survived two months of not talking about it, so I think I can wait however much longer she deems necessary.

But I'm curious as to why she suddenly feels the need to talk at all, and I wish I could read her signals better. I thought I was pretty good at it until the night I kissed her, but since then I've lost all confidence in my ability to do so, and especially now…now I feel completely clueless.

I wish I knew her better.

I wish I knew everything about her.

I wish…

"Andy?"

She's watching me, studying me, and I realize that I haven't said a single intelligible word since she made her statement, and she looks even more unsure of herself now. It's not something I equate with her. Insecurity, I mean. She's always confident and poised and in control, and I feel bad that my lack of response is causing her stress.

"After the case," I agreed quickly. She exhaled in what seems to be relief, and I don't know what about our history made her worry that I wouldn't want to talk with her, and I hate that we're on this uneven footing for some reason. I was under the impression that we were regaining our friendship rhythm after the ill-advised kiss. That memorable, inspirational, perfect yet misguided kiss. I want to regret it, and yet I don't, not for one second, because now I _know_ what it's like to kiss her, even if I never get to experience it again.

The moment continued to hang awkwardly between us, and I struggled for something neutral to say, so I finally settled on Rusty.

"So how's the kid doing? Has he been to see his mother yet, since you made the deal?"

"No, but he's thinking about going next week. I checked up on her yesterday and so far, she's behaving herself. They're going to test her again in a few days, so I think if it comes back clean, then he'll go. That'll mean she's three weeks sober."

"That should be past the withdrawal stage," I commented.

"Hmm," she agreed. "And hopefully it's long enough for her to be over her anger at me."

"Are you going with him?"

"Probably not. Unless he wants me," she answered. "But I'll definitely watch the surveillance footage."

From that point, we settled back into an easy conversation, and our earlier slip off track seemed forgotten.

By her, at least.

It's still weighing on my mind, the things she might want to say to me. I can't imagine it's something bad, considering she still seems to enjoy our meals together. We don't go as much as we used to, but we still meet up a couple of times each week, and I make sure that at least every other time is at her suggestion instead of mine.

But at the same time, I can't envision what else it might be. It's not like she's suddenly decided she wants me to kiss her again.

"This was nice," she said as we stepped out into the cool night air and began walking slowly towards our cars.

"It was," I agreed, and then I chuckled as she tried to cover a yawn. "And I must be a stimulating dinner companion."

"Or maybe you just woke me up at three o'clock this morning," she replied with a smile, bumping me lightly with her hip.

I had to shove down the imagery her words inspired, especially when coupled with the bodily contact.

"You'll bring down Janie's killer," she continued gently, once again broaching the subject since we're about to part ways. I know she wants to make sure my head is in an okay place. "Something that never would've happened if the case had stayed with Traffic."

"True. But then, how close are we to knowing her name? And how long can we really get away with working the case? Probably only until the next thing comes in, right?"

She hummed noncommittally, and we both know it's the truth. It'll be out of her hands at that point. Even the great Sharon Raydor has to answer to a boss.

We finished the walk in silence, but it was comfortable. And I'm still thinking about the case, but not with quite so much desperation. Sharon has kept me from losing myself, I think. She's kept me grounded and rational during a time when my emotions have wanted to take over, so when we reached her car, I tried again. To thank her, I mean.

"You partnered yourself with me today to keep an eye on me, didn't you?"

She smiled warmly, holding her keys in her hand, but not unlocking the door yet.

"You would've found trouble with Lieutenant Provenza," she countered. I raised an eyebrow in challenge, and she relented, saying quietly, "It's my job to recognize what my detectives need. Today you needed a friend by your side."

I nodded thoughtfully, appreciating her honesty as much as her insight into my needs, although it's kind of ironic since what she _doesn't_ know is that what I really need is _her_, by my side_ every_ day.

But of course, I can't say that. Because maybe she does know that, and this is the best she can offer.

"So, I'll see you in the morning," she continued. "We'll wrap up the hit and run aspect, and then see where we can go from there."

"Have a good night. Tell the kid I said hi."

She clicked the unlock button on the key fob, and I turned to go, but then she said my name, causing me to turn back around.

When I did, she put her hand on my shoulder, leaning towards me and going up on her toes to press her lips against my cheek, and the jolt of excitement that rolled through me was completely disproportionate to the innocence of the kiss, and it was all I could do not to take her into my arms.

But I didn't. Instead, I stood still as her lips lingered for several long, pleasurable seconds, and then she eased back.

It was like the one from two months ago, and yet it wasn't. That one felt apologetic, and this one felt…I don't know. Promising? Although is it possible to read that much from a kiss on the cheek?

I honestly have no idea what to think about what just happened, but I like it. And I love that it'll give me something to think about tonight, other than a ten year old girl in the morgue.

"Good night, Andy," she said, her voice low and soft. "Drive safe."

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Sharon POV**

* * *

><p>"Captain, I think I've got something."<p>

Amy's voice contained urgency that captured my attention. We'd been going over our leads, the rest of the squad tossing about ideas as to how to proceed next, all while Amy was on hold, and she's still on the phone, but she's scribbling furiously, and all eyes are on her.

I really hope it's a strong lead because the clock is ticking on our search for Janie's identity.

We did catch her killer a little bit ago, but that was a small consolation considering the rest of the blanks that still need to be filled.

Because her killer, while a sad and despicable excuse for a human being, doesn't have anything to do with the pain and abuse that brought her to Los Angeles. That brought Alice here.

He's just a cowardly man who took his eyes off the road for a moment, and then panicked after running over what he _says_ he thought was a dog.

_"Did you stop and look?"_ Andy shouted at him, after the man's sobbing confession.

_"No, but I thought…it seemed like…"_

_"It was a little girl, you asshole! She died on the street - __**alone**__ - because of you!" _

"_Mr. Caldwell,"_ I took over, moving close to Andy in an effort to silently calm him. _"I need you to write down exactly what happened late Wednesday night, and then what steps you took yesterday to cover up your crime…"_

_"My crime?"_ he interrupted. _"I just…I was trying to fix my truck. I just…"_

_"You got home around eleven p.m. Then what? Did you watch TV? Did you go to bed? What?"_ Andy asked with impressive composure, and I like that he's able to stay focused, to see where I'm going with my instructions.

_"I watched Jimmy Fallon."_

_"That starts at 11:35. What did you do before that?"_

_"I don't know. I got home, and went inside and it was coming on."_

_"We have you on traffic cams twenty minutes from your house at 10:42,"_ I informed him.

_"Okay."_

_"Okay, so that means you got home before 11:35," _Andy said with barely masked irritation. _"Unless you stopped somewhere else first. Did you stop somewhere?"_

The man started to squirm, and that's when I knew we had him.

_"Yes,"_ he admitted at last.

_"You stopped at a car wash, didn't you? You wanted to hose off the blood before you went home."_

_"Yes."_

_"And that's because you knew you didn't hit a dog, isn't it? You washed your truck in an effort to hide the evidence that you mowed down that little girl!"_

From that point, what little fight was left in Caldwell drained out completely. Andrea's going to plead him out. Vehicular manslaughter, ten years.

_"It's not enough," _Andy said under his breath as we headed back to the murder room. _"That's all the time Janie had on this earth…he deserves more than that."_

_"It was a horrible accident,"_ I soothed. "_He wasn't drinking, or driving recklessly…his biggest mistake was trying to cover it up instead of stopping to help. But Dr. Morales said she died on impact, so even if he had…"_

_"I know," _he responded sadly.

_"You did great with him,"_ I encouraged, putting a hand on his back so that he paused before we entered the room. "_You were angry, but you held it together and got him to admit more than he wanted to."_

He took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall, presumably content to continue our private conversation rather than immediately joining the others.

_"I just followed your lead,"_ he responded, finally smiling at me, just a little, and I was struck by how handsome he is. I mean, I _know_ it, but sometimes, like this particular moment, it really hits me hard.

_"Did you get any sleep last night?"_ I asked, well aware of the fact that I'm once again standing too close, but unable to resist.

_"Some, but it wasn't easy," _he admitted.

_"I know,_" I acknowledged with a nod, but then he said, "_Not because of the case."_

_"No?"_

_"I kept thinking about what it is you want to say to me."_

His tone, low and rumbling, is unexpectedly sensuous. I mean, we're standing outside of Major Crimes, and yet I'm suddenly looking into his rich brown eyes and thinking thoughts I shouldn't be thinking.

Damn Emily and her youthful idealism.

See, it's her fault I'm in this situation. Or at least, I'm going to _blame_ her, since I was previously in a dedicated state of denial.

But she called me yesterday, while Andy and I were taking a quick lunch break.

_"I know you're working, but I hope you have a few minutes," _she said breathlessly. With Emily, it's always as if she's in the middle of a marathon, and she only has mere seconds to release thousands of words before it's time to start running again.

_"I do,"_ I replied, smiling at the sound of her voice. I mouthed _Emily_ to Andy and he nodded encouragingly before continuing to eat. "_Is everything alright, honey? It's not like you to call in the middle of the day."_

_"I'm perfectly wonderful, I promise. It's you who has me worried."_

_"Me? Why?"_

"_Rusty says your dinners with Andy Flynn have dwindled to few and far between, and I'm wondering what's going on there. I'd thought maybe you were on the path to getting me a stepdad, but now I'm not so sure."_

_"Emily," _I said in exasperation, although whether it's her or Rusty that I'm feeling that way towards, I'm not sure. Both, probably. I held up a finger to Andy as I got up from the chair, silently excusing myself, and then I went out onto the sidewalk.

_"What?"_ she was saying unapologetically during that time. _"I mean, you were going out with him - __**a lot **__-__and he's a nice guy, so…why the abrupt pumping of the brakes? Dad's out of the picture, and it's even almost official, so I'm not getting it."_

_"You don't have to get anything,"_ I chastised. "_Andy and I are only friends."_

_"Yeah, Rusty might've bought that line - oh, and for the record, he really didn't - but you forget that I know you, and you don't just have dinner with __**friends**__ nearly every night of the week. So do you want to spend our precious few minutes of conversation time in denial, or can we just go straight to the good stuff?"_

That's where I made my critical error. Probably because I don't really have any girl friends, and when it comes to things like how I feel about Andy, I've been keeping it all locked inside, so when my daughter asked, I decided, who better to trust with my innermost feelings?

_"Okay, you're kind of right. Not about the stepdad part,"_ I said quickly, and then I sighed and continued. "_I like him. And we were having fun together. And then…he kissed me."_

_"How dare he! Oh my God, Mom, did you call the cops?"_ she said smartly. She's got a sarcastic wit that reminds me of Andy.

_"It's not funny, Emily."_

_"Shh, I'm trying to do the math," _she said innocently.

_"What math?"_

_"Three months' worth of going to dinner, let's say at a minimum of four times a week, that's at the very least forty-eight dates, probably more like fifty something."_

_"Okay…"_

_"So how many dates do you usually require before letting the guy give you a goodnight kiss? Because I'm not sure how it worked when you were dating Dad, but things move **a lot** faster these days."_

I wanted to be irritated with her, but I had to laugh.

_"Oh, so you __**do**__ still have your sense of humor," _she chuckled. "_Good, because I was afraid maybe Dad sucked all the life out of you. So tell me the scoop with the dashing Andy Flynn. I mean, did you really shoot him down just because he kissed you? Was it that bad?"_

I looked through the café window to where he was sitting inside, and I thought about how it felt to kiss him.

_"No, it was that good," _I admitted carefully.

I expected her to tease me some more, but she didn't. She went quiet for a minute, which isn't like her at all, and then she said with wonder, "_You __**really **__like him."_

_"Yes."_

_"And you're scared."_

I never imagined that she would be so intuitive about my feelings, so maybe it was her insight that had me answering honestly without forethought.

_"Yes."_

Because I am.

There's so much involved with _any_ potential relationship that I haven't ventured into this arena since Jack, and now there's Andy, and I _do_ really like him, and he _works_ for me, and there's Rusty to think about, and there's the possibility of getting hurt or disappointed or worse yet, _I _could be the one doing those things to _him,_ and it just feels like _so much_, and isn't it just easier to avoid such entanglements altogether?

_"Oh, Mom…"_ she said softly, and I wondered how I let things get turned around, how we were having a conversation where she's _my_ confessor, where _she's _comforting _me._

_"It's fine," _I said quickly in an attempt to cover for my momentary slip. _ "I…"_

_"It's not fine,"_ she interrupted. _ "You've always taught us that having courage doesn't mean you're never afraid, it just means you don't let your fear stop you. And Mom, you're the most courageous person I know."_

I felt tears burn my eyes at both the compliment and the knowledge that she must've actually paid attention to some of my lectures, and at that moment, Andy caught my eye through the window. He moved like he was going to tap his watch, but he must have noticed my expression, because he immediately stood up and tossed some cash on the table before exiting the café.

_"I'm not going to pull a Ricky and call you lonely,"_ Emily was saying. _"But isn't it more fun being with Andy than it is being alone?"_

By this time, Andy was right next to me, asking quietly, "_Is everything alright?"_

_"It's fine,"_ I whispered, and Emily heard me because she said, "_Wait, are you with him right now? You are, aren't you?"_

_"Yes, and I really need to get back to work, so maybe we can finish this discussion tonight?"_

_"Or you could take Andy out to dinner tonight, and tell him you were an idiot for pushing him away,"_ she countered, the smile back in her voice.

_"Emily…"_

_"Think about it, Mom. Because you're also the smartest person I know, so don't be dumb about this. There's risk involved with anything worth having. "_

My daughter the philosopher.

But she made good points. That's not the _only_ reason why I asked Andy out to dinner last night, but it _is_ what prompted me to lay the groundwork for a conversation with him. About us, I mean. I brought it up at dinner, even though it wasn't the right time for the actual discussion, simply to avoid allowing myself an out.

If he knows I want to talk, then we'll make sure it happens.

If I only think it, I might back down later.

What I _hadn't_ expected was for him to be so worried about it. Surely he doesn't think it'll be anything bad, does he?

But as I stood with Andy in the hallway outside of Major Crimes, standing twice as close as would be professional, I could see the concern on his face, and before I could formulate a response to his statement that I'm the one who kept him up last night, he added with a rueful smile, _"I tend to fall on the side of pessimism when it comes to my personal life." _

I guess he _does_ expect me to deliver bad news.

Maybe I should've just jumped in with both feet last night.

I considered it, but his head is wrapped up in Alice and Janie right now. I don't want to complicate his life. And honestly I'm not sure how he'll feel about what I have to say. I mean, it's a delicate situation, since I'm his boss, and maybe he's content with us only being friends.

Even if he wanted something more two months ago, maybe he's changed his mind.

_This is why I hate dating_, I reminded myself. The ambiguity of it all.

Although oddly enough, I haven't been this tied up in knots over a man since I first started going out with Jack. All of the dates post-Jack were just dates, without any sense of anticipation or excitement and certainly not any arousal, and I think I got used to_ not_ feeling.

That's what has me scared, I suppose.

With Andy, I've felt all of those things, ten times over.

_"I was trying to make it easy on you, by waiting for the case to be over,"_ I told him quietly. "_But I don't want to be responsible for keeping you up at night."_

_"Don't feel bad," _he said, his smile broadening into something more playful. "_Last night wasn't the first time I've lain awake thinking about you, and I'm sure it won't be the last."_

His suggestive words caught me by surprise, and so did the rush of warmth that flooded through me at the insinuation, and I found myself returning his smile and getting completely lost in his gaze.

_"Captain,"_ Lieutenant Provenza said as he came barreling through the door, causing me to jump back in an effort to quickly put more distance between us.

_"Yes, Lieutenant,"_ I said, my voice sounding breathy even to my own ears, and I hoped that he didn't pick up on it, or ask why Andy and I were hovering together in the hallway.

He lingered for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between us, but then he fixed his stare on me and said, "_Tao got something off the string pack._"

So that's how we ended up back in the murder room, going over the latest leads, while Amy is tracking something down via phone call.

The thing Lieutenant Tao discovered was that the string pack was one of a hundred purchased for a church summer camp held a year ago this past summer, in Stafford, Virginia.

_"It's not an M-state, but it's close to one, and it fits with Alice having the Virginia Piedmont dialect,"_ he reasoned. "_The girls could've lived in southern Maryland and gone to camp in Stafford."_

_"Get the church on the phone," _I stated, trying not to get too excited about the potential lead.

"_I tried,"_ he admitted. "_It_ _doesn't exist anymore." _

_"For all we know, the girl picked up that string pack at the local Goodwill,"_ Provenza added.

_"Local is the key word, Lieutenant,"_ I said as I wrote _Stafford_ on the board.

"_You're still probably talking about a fifty mile radius, at least, Captain,"_ Julio said.

_"It's something,"_ I insisted, casting a glance at Andy. He's just taking it all in, and I can tell the wheels in his mind are working at high speed.

That's when Amy called out that she had something, and after a brief pause, we continued our rundown until she was ready.

The waitress from the café was a bust. Yes, she saw a little girl, and yes, she asked her why she was alone, but the girl lied and said she was waiting for her mother to get off work at the bus depot, and she never offered her name.

The dump of the pay phone only solidified what we already know - Janie came to L.A. in search of Alice. It was Alice's cell number that was dialed during the time we know Janie was on the bench in the bus station, but no other calls were made within that time frame.

"Okay, get this," Amy said at last, a smile on her face as she slammed down the phone. "The unicorn comes from Build-A-Bear."

"Great, a national chain," Provenza grumbled. Sometimes I want to smack the back of his head but so far, I've always managed to hold back. One of these days though…

"It is," Amy agreed. "But while there's a few dozen standard animals stocked everywhere, not all stores get the same specialty animals. And this unicorn was only released to three stores."

"Is it too much to hope for one of those stores to be in Stafford?" Andy asked.

"I'd be doing cartwheels if that were the case," Amy replied, but she was still smiling, so I can tell her news is good.

"Which three cities?" I prompted.

"Mexico City. Calgary. And Fredericksburg."

"Virginia?" Andy asked quickly, moving towards Amy's desk where she's pointing at her monitor, where she has Google maps zoomed in on Virginia.

"Uh huh," she agreed. "Which just happens to be twelve miles from Stafford."

Everyone started talking at once, posing different possibilities, including the idea that Bug may have been wrong about Alice being from an M-state, or maybe she used to live in one, but then moved to Virginia, or maybe Janie moved to Virginia after Alice left home, and I was trying to write down all of the ideas while my detectives continued to brainstorm, and that's when Taylor entered the room.

"So you caught the driver of the hit and run," he announced in that flamboyant, pompous way of his, almost like he's standing at a pulpit.

"We did," I agreed. "We've handed him off to DDA Hobbs."

"I guess the chief can rest easy now, knowing his elite squad managed to put away a man for…wait, what was it again? Vehicular manslaughter?"

His heavy sarcasm tells me that I haven't escaped rebuke for commandeering the case from Traffic, so I turned to face him head-on, putting my hands on my hips.

"Yes, sir. Of a ten year old girl."

"Uh huh. And tell me again, Captain. What is it about this case that made it a Major Crime?"

With my peripheral vision, I could see Andy approaching, and I heard Julio's chair scrape as well as Mike's, so I know my squad is rallying around behind me in support.

"The victim in this case is related to a victim in one of our previous cases," I stated.

Taylor began reading over the board, and I know what he's going to say before he says it.

"This case is closed. You said so yourself. It's time to move on."

"We're still trying to get a name for our victim," I rationalized.

"That's a luxury we can't afford. You could spend the next six months trying to identify this girl and the truth is, we may never know."

"We won't know if we don't look," Andy spoke up, his voice almost menacing.

Taylor whirled around to glare at him, and I quickly intervened.

"Chief, can I speak with you for a moment in my office?"

Taylor continued to stare down Andy, so I moved towards him, breaking their eye contact and gesturing towards my office door.

He reluctantly followed me inside, and that's when the dressing down began.

"Captain, _I_ make the call on which cases this squad works,_ not _you. Pulling a case from Traffic…"

"We solved it in a day," I interjected. "Officer Casey had one page of poorly taken notes, and if I'd left it with him, you and I both know the driver never would've been found."

"Maybe," he conceded. "But this continued search for the girl's name…the department doesn't have the resources to pay its top detectives overtime while they play Marco Polo with a dead runaway."

His callousness made me bristle, and he picked up on it right away because he started backtracking.

"I'm not saying it shouldn't happen. I'm just saying it can't. We have to focus our energies on actual cases, current cases."

"Of which we're lacking at the moment," I pointed out. "What would it hurt to continue our search, just until we're called out again?"

"You're called out," he stated flatly.

"Excuse me?"

"Robbery Homicide picked up a case last week that just an hour ago turned into a serial, so now it's yours. The files will be here in a few minutes, so clear your board and box up the evidence, and get your eye on the ball, Captain."

He nodded sharply and then left my office, and for a moment, I couldn't do anything but stand there and stare after him.

I understand that we have priorities, but what I can't understand is why these girls seem to be _no one's_ priority. Crimes were committed against them, heinous crimes, and the perpetrator needs to be punished, as well as stopped from executing further abuse.

"Captain?" Andy questioned, knocking on the frame of my open door as he stepped inside my office.

"I'm sorry," I said sadly.

"We both knew this would happen," he said as he approached me.

He stopped mere inches in front of me, and as I caught his eye, I was surprised to see resolve rather than disappointment, and I spent an extra moment just looking at him.

That seems to be my habit lately, and maybe that should bother me but it doesn't.

"Here," he offered, holding up a slip of paper.

I looked at him questioningly, but when he didn't respond, I glanced down at the paper.

_Request for Vacation Time_, it said at the top. An official form, filled out and signed by Lieutenant Andy Flynn, time off beginning tomorrow.

"You're going to finish the investigation," I said, once again holding his gaze and feeling a strange flood of emotion.

_He's going to take vacation days in order to find Janie and Alice's identities._ What kind of man does that? A very good one. An honorable and dedicated one, with a strong sense of justice.

"If you sign off on it, then yes," he answered, flashing me that little crooked smile of his that I've come to love. "I figure the best way to find answers is to go to the source."

"You're going to Virginia? But we're only creating theories. We don't have anything concrete yet."

"I know, but I think it's worth a boots on the ground effort. It'll either work or it won't, but at least I'll know I tried."

I wish we weren't having this conversation in my office because I suddenly found myself wanting to kiss him more than just about anything. And I'm also missing him already, even though he hasn't yet left.

"Okay," I agreed, reaching across my desk for a pen and then hastily scrawling my signature on the dotted line. "When are you leaving?"

"I'll have to make arrangements. Probably first thing in the morning."

"Okay," I said again, still feeling slightly out of sorts by how much I hate the idea of him traveling across the country, and yet amazed by his determination.

"So maybe we can talk tonight?" he posed, a sheepish smile crossing his face. "Because the idea of not seeing you _and _not knowing…"

Yes, I definitely want to kiss him.

Almost enough to say to hell with the rules.

But instead, I smiled and said, "Yes, tonight sounds good."

**TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Andy POV**

* * *

><p>As the plane took off, I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes.<p>

I've got a long day ahead of me. It'll be just after four o'clock, local time, when I get to D.C., and then I still have to pick up a rental car and drive down to Stafford and check into the hotel.

This trip is going to cost me a bundle, but it was still an easy decision to make. The thought entered my mind yesterday even before we picked up Caldwell because I knew we were close, and I knew Taylor would be an ass about it, so after Sharon took him into her office yesterday afternoon, I pulled the form from my desk drawer.

As I filled it out, I thought about how long I might be gone. Days, at least. Using the time didn't bother me, and neither did the money, but the thought of not seeing Sharon…_that_ bothered me enough to suggest we have our talk before I left, and I was relieved when she agreed to it.

_"Why don't you come over for dinner?"_ she asked at the end of the work day. "_It'll give us more privacy than a restaurant."_

I raised an eyebrow and she quickly added, "_I mean, so we can talk. Without being interrupted."_

_"Okay,"_ I replied easily, enjoying how flustered she got just from my silent intimation.

_"Rusty will be there,"_ she continued, as if she's trying to make a point.

_"Okay,"_ I said again.

I don't mind the kid. In fact, I actually like him quite a bit. He used to be pretty annoying, but most teenagers have that ability, and he was understandably cautious about forming bonds, back in the beginning, but Sharon's done a remarkable job, providing him with the stability and love needed to help him grow into himself.

"_He can eat with us, and then I'm sure he'll have homework, so…"_

She trailed off then, the implication being that Rusty would go off to his room and leave us alone.

To talk.

About us.

As much as I've wanted the discussion for weeks and weeks, it made me nervous to know it was about to happen.

Like I told her, I'm a pessimist when it comes to my personal life, and for good reason. I've always managed to make a mess of it. My ex…well, she hates me. The whole marriage was a disaster, save the first two years. After that it went downhill quickly, and I'll shoulder a lot of that blame because of my addiction, but she was no picnic, either. When we met, we were young and in lust, which led to me knocking her up on our fourth date. Marriage was expected of us, so we went through with it, but honestly, if not for the pregnancy, we wouldn't have dated more than a few months, I'm sure. Of course, I don't regret it. I got two great kids from it, so I can't say I'd change a thing, but it's sad that love never really factored into it.

Since the divorce, I've been from one meaningless relationship to the next. I think that's why it took me so long to realize what I was feeling for Sharon. It was all so new and unexpected. I certainly wasn't looking to fall in love with my boss, but…well, that's what I did.

Not hard to see why I figured this venture would be another exercise in misery for me.

Fitting, really. I've waited my whole life to _really_ fall in love, and when I do, it's with someone I shouldn't, with someone who can't possibly feel the same way.

_"Thanks for bringing dinner, Lieutenant," _Rusty said as he got up from the chair. He was still chewing the last bite, but already making a hasty exit. "_But my sociology homework isn't going to do itself, so…"_

_"Are you sure you don't want dessert?" _Sharon offered quickly, and it hit me that she's just as nervous as me.

She's not ready for us to be alone yet.

For some reason, her apprehension made me feel a little more relaxed. I don't know why, unless it's because I feel like if she's going to shoot me down, she'll be cool and calculated about it. Professional, like it's part of the job. But that's not her demeanor at the moment.

And I know she tried to reassure me that this conversation won't be bad, but I've still been worried because I find it hard to believe that she'll want what I want.

Because I want it all.

I want _her,_ all the time, in every way.

_"Maybe later," _Rusty answered, already retreating towards the hall. I watched, even after he was out of sight, until I heard his bedroom door close, and then I turned my eyes back to Sharon, where she sat across the table.

And I know I said she looked nervous, but I mean, she looks _really_ nervous, and for a minute, I thought she might employ some avoidance tactics, but in true Captain Raydor fashion, she got right to it.

_"For starters, I owe you an apology."_

_"For what?" _I asked, and for a moment I thought she _was_ procrastinating, and that she was bringing up the case again.

But then she took a deep breath and chuckled self-consciously as she said, "_This is awkward, isn't it? I'm not sure I've ever had a conversation like this." _

"_That makes it a first time for both of us. I'm good with that_," I told her, trying to keep the mood light.

She nodded, not making eye contact as she seemed to mull something over, and then she suddenly looked up at me and said, "_I'm sorry for pushing you away. That night, after you kissed me. I've thought about it a lot, and I really wish I'd reacted differently."_

She knows she hurt me, with the rejection. That's what the discussion is about. She feels bad about it, and probably thinks it's still effecting our friendship.

_"You don't have to apologize. I shouldn't have…well, I mean, I didn't give you a chance to say no beforehand, I just kind of…"_

_"No, Andy," _she interrupted gently, reaching across the table to touch my hand, like she did in the restaurant the night before. _"I'm not saying…"_

She trailed off and sighed, closing her eyes briefly as she shook her head, and then she looked at me earnestly and said, _"See, this __**is**__ awkward. We're both afraid of hurting each other, or of saying the wrong thing. But what it really boils down to is trusting that our friendship can handle the honesty, right? And I feel sure that it can, so we just have to say it…what you want, what I want, and how we can put the two together." _

Have I mentioned that I'm in love with her? She's just this incredible person, so fearless and caring, and I love everything about her.

_"Okay,"_ I agreed, emboldened by her courage. I mean, no time like the present to just put it all out there, right? I'll be on a plane in the morning, so if this goes sideways, I'll have the benefit of not having to face her for a few days. _"So…what do I want? Uh… I want you. I have for quite a while now. As a friend, as more than a friend…I just want to be a part of your life."_

I think I took her by surprise because I made the statement and then gauged her response, but she just sat and stared at me, and when she finally opened her mouth to speak, Rusty came into the room.

_"Coffee," _he said, not even sparing us a glance._ "I really need coffee. Who knew sociology was a leading cause of drowsiness? I mean, I thought it would be interesting, but so far…"_

He stopped talking as he finally turned to look at us, and I guess it's the expression on Sharon's face that clued him into the fact that he interrupted something important, or maybe it's that she still has her hand covering mine, I don't know.

Personally, I'm dying a thousand deaths here, waiting to see how my boss likes the fact that I want her.

_"Oh, coffee, sure,"_ she said at last, hopping up from the table. "_I'll make some."_

_"Ah…no, you know what? I think it might help me to study at the library, so…yeah. I'll just head out for a while, and I'll grab some coffee on the way, so…don't wait up."_

He somehow managed to snag his books from his room, put on his shoes, grab the keys, and rush out the door all in a matter of less than a minute.

Silence fell over the room, and I got up from the chair, moving over to where Sharon was still standing in the middle of the kitchen.

_"Our friendship can handle the honesty,"_ I reminded her. "_Just say it, and then we'll figure it out."_

_I only want to be friends,_ I imagined her saying, so clearly in my head that I almost missed her actual words.

_"I can't rush into anything. We have to take it slow and make sure it's working on every level so that we don't ruin our friendship. And we have to keep it out of work. And I have a feeling I'm going to be bad at it."_

_"So that means, what exactly?"_ I pressed, not willing to let there be any miscommunication this time.

She took a step closer to me and then settled her palm against my chest as she said softly, "_It means that as much as I love that we've become friends,_ _I want to be greedy and try for more."_

We were alone in her home, and we just declared our mutual desire to take our relationship into the more-than-friends stage, so what happened next?

She fixed us some tea and we sat in her living room and talked.

Not any more about us. I think we had enough awkwardness for one evening. No, we talked about Janie and Alice, and my impending trip.

But we were comfortable together, in a way we haven't truly been since that fateful night two months ago, and it was so nice to know that things aren't really going to change between us, except when it comes to physical affection, and I'll wait on that as long as she needs. It's enough for me to know that she's interested, that she cares about me as something more than a colleague and friend.

So the evening went really well, and after a couple of hours, when I decided that I'd better go, considering my early flight the next morning, she walked me to the door.

_"What time are you leaving for the airport?_" she asked, and I don't know if it's my perspective, now that I know where we stand, but it seems her voice is softer, more intimate.

_"Five-thirty."_

She nodded thoughtfully, her hand seeking out mine, and then she said, _"I'm going to miss you."_

_"Yeah, it doesn't seem fair. I finally get the girl, and I head out of town,"_ I said with a slow smile. _"Bad timing. Story of my life."_

_"The girl will be here when you get back," _she replied, smiling back at me, and as I stood there deciding whether or not a hug would be considered _rushing it_, she said, "_Andy. I won't push you away this time."_

So I kissed her.

Two months later, almost to the day, and it felt like no time has passed at all. It was every bit as good as I remembered, every second intoxicating, and I didn't want to let her go. I _didn't_ let her go, not for a long time, and when I did, it was with great reluctance.

_"Wait, what were you saying about you being bad at this? Because there wasn't one bad thing about that at all."_

She laughed, that beautiful laugh of hers, and then said, "_I didn't mean that. I meant…I don't know. Relationship stuff. It's been a long time, and even longer since I had any kind of normal relationship."_

_"Well, I don't know if we'll be normal or not," _I teased._ "But I think we'll be good."_

_"I think so, too,"_ she agreed.

So that was last night.

I went home to pack and then I went to bed and dreamt about her. I think I was probably more awake than asleep, but whatever the case, it was time well spent.

At twenty-five minutes after five, I was grabbing my keys and throwing my duffle over my shoulder as I pulled open my front door, and there in my driveway, leaning against the front of her car, stood Sharon.

Beautiful, as always, but somehow this morning she was even more so. Maybe it was the unexpectedness of her in my driveway. Maybe it was the _intimacy_ of her in my driveway. Sounds silly, maybe, but my driveway is only steps away from my front door, which is only steps away from my bedroom, and after the fantasizing I did about her last night…let's just say I was left breathless and speechless as she slowly pushed off the car and walked towards me, and I don't know if she was _purposely _walking like a big cat coming after its prey, or if it's all in my head, but add a wind machine and run it in slow motion, and she's a goddamn Victoria's Secret commercial.

Okay, it _must_ be just in my head because she _is _fully clothed, so…

_"I hope you don't mind,_" she said. "_I thought I'd give you a ride to the airport."_

_"You didn't have to…um…I could've…"_

I stopped my rambling and took a deep breath, and then dropped my duffel as she met me on the sidewalk, and I pulled her into my arms, and the feel of her body against mine is just so natural and perfect that I spent a moment simply cataloguing the sensations.

_"This is a really nice surprise, thank you,"_ I said at last.

_"I'm trying __**not**__ to be bad at relationships," _she admitted. "_This seemed like the right thing to do." _

_"I just want you to be you,_" I said, pulling back a little so that I could look her in the eye. "_I don't have any expectations or preconceived ideas about how this is going to go."_

_"Okay,"_ she said as a slow smile spread across her face. "_What if I said I just wanted to see you again before you leave?"_

Apparently, she wanted to do more than see me, because after her remark, she kissed me, skillfully and enticingly, to the point where I decided she must have been holding back before because standing there on the sidewalk in front of my house, she nearly brought me to my knees.

_"Yeah, for the record, any time you want to see me is perfectly fine with me," _I told her when we finally took a break.

She laughed and tipped her head towards the car as she said, "_Come on, or you'll miss your flight."_

_"I'm not sure I'd mind,"_ I answered.

_"Yes, you would,"_ she argued lightly. "_And like I said, I'll be here when you get back."_

That was three hours ago, and now I'm in the air, flying east, heading for Reagan National in D.C.

I pulled out the file we've amassed on Alice and Janie so that I could go over it, refresh my mind on the details, and force my focus onto the girls.

I've never done anything like this before, strike out on an investigation on my own, and I'm briefly reminded of Detective Adams, the Las Vegas officer who came to L.A. and ended up dead in a night club bathroom.

_Although he was a stalker,_ I pointed out. And I'll check in with local PD. In fact, I have no doubt that Sharon is on the phone with them, probably right now, letting them know I'm coming and paving the way for my visit to go smoothly.

I don't know how much help they'll be, if any, but it's a place to start, along with the Build-A-Bear store in Fredericksburg, and the neighborhood near where the church camp was held. Hopefully I'll find other kids who attended, and maybe one of them will recognize Janie's picture.

The local police shouldn't be a factor until I find where she was living, and figure out which asshole was hurting the girls.

And when that time comes, maybe I'll visit the home by myself first. Talk to the guy before calling for the arrest. Because yeah, I think he needs a good t_alking_ to.

With that thought, I closed the file and once again leaned back against the seat.

I know the details inside and out, and since I still have five hours before touchdown in D.C., a nap is probably a good idea, and as I closed my eyes, it hit me that in spite of where I'm headed and why I'm going, I'm happy. Completely, honest to God happy.

It's such an unfamiliar feeling for me that it makes me wonder what's going to go wrong.

TBC...

A/N: Virtual cookies to anyone who flashed on the image of Captain Raydor in TC 07x11 during the scene in Andy's driveway!

A/N2: I have been absolutely horrible with review replies on this story - THANK YOU to everyone who's been reviewing! So very much appreciated :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Sharon POV**

* * *

><p>"He's on vacation? Since when? And why did you approve the time when you're working a serial?"<p>

"Since today," I answered in a measured tone, doing my best to hide my irritation over Chief Taylor's overreaction. "And taking into account our workload lately, if I only allowed my detectives vacation time when we're between cases, no one would ever be able to go. Lieutenant Flynn has more than five weeks accrued. It won't hurt for him to take a few days."

"Uh huh," Taylor replied. "So where did he go?"

The question caught me off guard because I never considered Taylor smart enough to be suspicious of the timing of Andy's vacation.

"Where did he go?" I repeated as I decided on a response. I went with truthful avoidance. "He's under no obligation to give me the details of how he plans to spend his time."

Taylor continued to watch me pryingly, but I simply turned towards the board and said, "So do you want to speculate on Lt. Flynn's whereabouts, or should I bring you up to speed on our progress?"

I heard Julio snicker but I maintained a neutral expression as Taylor grumbled, "Update me, please."

I spent the next twenty minutes highlighting the details of our current investigation, and then he offered up his brilliant conclusion that it was time to apply for a search warrant for the suspect's house and car.

Julio raised his hand and said, "Already done, sir. We should have it within the hour."

"And do we have his ex in protective custody?"

"As of two hours ago," Lieutenant Provenza spoke up.

"What about the girlfriend?"

"We've spoken with her," Amy said. "She's cooperating, and said she'll call us if she hears from him."

Everyone fell silent for a moment, and then Taylor finally nodded in my general direction and said, "Looks like you've got it under control, Captain. Let me know when you're ready to make an arrest."

He left the room, and Lt. Provenza said, "Well, thank God he was here to help us solve this thing."

The others laughed, but I just bit back a smile as I shook my head in wonder at how the man still outranks me. I'm not bitter about it, just baffled. He managed a promotion during a hiring freeze while I've been stuck at captain for seven years. Although I suppose it's because he's never minded playing all of the political games while I try to climb the ranks by simply doing a good job.

"So, Captain, if this girl really took the bus all the way from Virginia, it would've taken her three days," Mike said, quickly switching back to the Janie investigation since our official investigation is on hold, waiting for the search warrant. I like how everyone wants to continue to help Andy learn the girls' names. "There's a depot in Fredericksburg, which is where she probably would've started, and she would've made at least three transfers."

"Bus station security footage?" I said with a nod, turning towards Buzz.

"I've already requested it," he said. "There's a few different route options, but I've talked with Richmond, Atlanta, Memphis and Denver. They all agreed to send their depot feed from Saturday through Tuesday, but it's going to take me awhile to go through it."

"I know. I appreciate the effort you're all putting into this. I know Lt. Flynn appreciates it, too."

"I can't believe he went to Virginia," Lt. Provenza mumbled. "We don't even know for sure if that's where they're from. What does he think he's going to find?"

"Answers," I said with a shrug, and then I turned and went into my office.

I'd love to get Andy on the phone, just to hear his voice, but he probably has his hands full. His plane should've landed half an hour ago, so he's most likely in baggage claim, and then he still has to rent a car.

It's strange how different it feels without him at work. I'm not sure I ever realized before how much I depend on him during investigations.

And yes, I'll be honest with myself. I miss him on a personal level, too. It's only one-thirty in the afternoon, seven hours after I saw him last, and yet I truly miss him.

I'm glad I made the decision to drive him to the airport this morning. It was a spur of the moment thing, brought on by the fact that I was lying awake at four a.m., thinking about our talk the night before, and about how much I like him, how much I like kissing him, and it hit me that it might be several days before I got the opportunity to kiss him again, so I got out of bed and hopped in the shower, making up my mind to go see him.

I did spend a little extra time, trying to look good for him. I've found myself doing that a lot over the past several months, but especially this morning: cream-colored silk blouse tucked into a form-fitting black skirt, and shoes that are probably going to kill my feet by day's end, but that make my legs look good. I have a jacket on over the blouse now, but this morning I didn't, and when he held me, I could feel the heat of his hands through the thin fabric, and it felt _so _good, so arousing…it made me think about how his hands will feel touching me everywhere, directly on my skin, and the wave of desire that hit me was so unexpected and overwhelming that my first response was to want to take a step back, to let my mind clear, but I didn't. Instead, I kissed him and it was even better than the one from last night, and I had to force myself to pull back, to suggest that we leave so he wouldn't miss his flight.

But letting him go was the last thing I wanted to do, and now I'm wishing he'd hurry up and come back.

Funny how initially I thought having a relationship with him would be too difficult, the maneuvering around work and the kids, but it's not. Of course, we're barely getting started, so work may prove to be an issue, but I don't think so. And the kids - well, mine at least - they seemed to know before I did, and they're all perfectly fine with it.

Ricky called me this morning, after I left the airport.

_"My plan was to catch you before you got to the office,"_ he said. "_Did it work?"_

_"Perfectly,"_ I answered._ "I'm in the car, on my way now, so I have a few minutes to talk. How are you? It's been almost a week."_

_"It has. And a busy one for you, I hear. Emily tells me you're sleeping with Andy Flynn."_

_"Richard!"_ I uttered, completely nonplussed at his straight-forward remark. I felt my cheeks flush with color as I struggled with how to respond, debating between outright indignation at his intrusiveness and candid denial of his statement, and as with Emily, I had to wonder when the tables turned, with my children suddenly acting like the adults.

_"Okay, so she didn't say that, but you have to admit, it was fun getting you all worked up,"_ he said, laughing through every word.

_"So this is how you treat your mother?"_ I teased, regaining my composure enough to take control of the conversation.

_"Oh, come on, Mom, lighten up. I just thought I might shock you into an admission."_

_"Yes, because that always works, doesn't it, honey?"_ I said sweetly.

He chuckled again, and then said, "_Seriously, I just wanted you to know that I like him. Emily said you're all in a twist about him, and I don't know if how your kids will react is part of what's worrying you, but if it is, well…don't, it's all good, okay?"_

_"I'm not in a twist,"_ I corrected.

_"Okay,"_ he said dubiously. _"I won't pry for details. Not yet, anyway. I just wanted to ease your mind, that's all."_

_"Okay, well, thank you."_

_"And I thought I should mention that fifty dates is an awfully long time to make the guy wait for a goodnight kiss."_

_"Oh my God. Emily…" _I muttered as he started a fresh round of laughter. _"I'm so glad I can be a source of entertainment for my children."_

We talked for a few more minutes after that, fortunately about topics other than me and Andy, and then I had to end the call, since I'd arrived at work.

I should've known Emily would talk to Ricky, and I don't mind that she shared with him, but it makes me feel a little bad that she's clearly worried about me.

Rusty was worried, too, although I was able to clear that up last night.

When he got back from the library, an hour or so after Andy left, he cautiously entered the kitchen where I was packing a lunch for today.

_"So, he's gone?" _

I hummed my response, and asked, "_Did you finish your homework?"_

_"I'm actually ahead. I wasn't sure how long to stay away, so I just kept working."_

_"Rusty, you didn't have to leave. We were just talking."_

_"I know, but…are you okay? I mean, you looked…I don't know. Not upset, but just…something."_

_"I'm fine,"_ I promised. _"We just had some things to sort out."_

_"So did you two break up?"_

His insistency that we were dating before, in spite of my consistent denials, had me smiling. Like I said, I guess he knew before I did.

_"No. The opposite, I think. We actually are going to start dating. Is that okay with you?"_

_"Is it okay with me that you're going to admit to doing what I knew you were doing all along?" _he joked.

_"Ah…yes,"_ I said with a smile.

_"Yeah,"_ he replied easily, shrugging his shoulders as his grin grew wider. _"Lieutenant Provenza's going to be mad though."_

_"You've talked with the lieutenant about me and Andy? Rusty…"_

_"__**He**__ talked about it. I just listened. He thinks Flynn is crazy for having such a huge crush on you, and I don't mean because it's you but because you're the captain. He said there's no way anything will ever come of it. He said you like the rules too much."_

_"It's not against the rules for colleagues to date,"_ I corrected.

It's not, although I _am_ supposed to report our relationship to my superior. The edict is vague as to how soon that needs to happen, though, and an ambiguous rule is a useless rule because it can be bent to suit a person's needs. And in this case, I plan to do a little bending because there's no rush to tell Chief Taylor. I'd rather enjoy the beginning stages of our relationship without being under his judgmental eye.

_"Good, because that would be a stupid rule," _he stated. He reached past me to grab an apple from the basket on the counter, and then he surprised me by giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before saying _goodnight_ and heading for his room.

"Captain, we got the search warrant," Amy said, popping her head into my office and pulling me from my thoughts.

It's only been half an hour, so I was pleased with the expediency of the warrant, and hopeful that we could catch this guy tonight.

But we didn't.

We executed the search and found the evidence we need for a conviction, but the man himself is still unaccounted for, even after we spent several more hours checking out every lead on his possible whereabouts.

"We're going to have to wait on the girlfriend," Lt. Provenza reasoned. "She's our best bet. Otherwise, we could look in every hole in L.A. and still come up empty."

He was right about her being our best bet. We'll have to continue the search ourselves in the morning, but I sent everyone home for the night.

It's after nine, and I still haven't spoken with Andy, although we did exchange a few texts. The first one came in not long after we got our search warrant.

_**I'm here. Half hour drive ahead of me, and then after I check in, I'm going to get started. I'll keep you posted.**_

I read his message and was almost disappointed, and then a second one came through and it made me smile.

_**I miss you.**_

I've never been the needy type, one who expects flowery words or heartfelt declarations, but his admission that he misses me made me feel good, especially considering how much time I've spent thinking about him today.

_**I miss you, too. We're still working things from this end, so hopefully we'll have something more for you to go on. **_

A couple of hours later, while the team and I were conducting the search of our suspect's home, I got another text.

_**I just now got to Stafford. You think L.A. traffic is bad, you should try D.C. **_

Seconds later, another one came through. It's like he doesn't want to mix business and pleasure in the same text.

_**Can I take you on a real date when I get back? **_

The simple and innocent question sent a rush of excitement through me. Probably because I've been in denial for so long, that once I gave myself permission to _feel_ something for him, it's all become so exhilarating and promising. I mean, we're already such good friends. We don't have to go through the getting-to-know-you phase. We've done that. So I suppose that explains my excitement, because a _real date_ means a progression of intimacy, and as much as it scares me, I still love the thought of it.

I stood with my phone in my hand, in our suspect's home, trying to think of an appropriate, and maybe slightly suggestive reply, but then Mike found a storage space under the floor in the man's bedroom, and my focus was required in the moment, so I typed a quick _**yes**_ and got back to work.

So now I'm home, and I haven't heard from him, and I can't help but try to imagine what he might be doing right now.

Sleeping, most likely. It's after midnight there.

I stretched out in the bathtub, a glass of wine and my cell phone both within reach. As expected, my feet were aching from the heels, and I was feeling a little morose that I won't get to talk to Andy until tomorrow, so the bath was an effort to soothe my mind as well as my body, and it was doing an adequate job, but the ringing of my phone brought a smile to my face.

"It's late for you," I said when I pushed the button.

"You know, I pictured how it might be, if we were ever to start dating," he said.

His voice is soft and rumbling, and I'm trying to imagine how he looks, lying in the hotel bed, and I love how we can just slip straight into a conversation without going through the exercise of pleasantries first. It speaks to a level of closeness, and I love that this is where Andy and I are in our relationship. Already, after only a day. Which kind of proves that everyone else was right and it was going on long before either of us admitted to anything. We somehow managed to master the early stages of being a couple without acknowledging, even to ourselves, that we _were_ a couple.

"You did?" I asked, leaning my head back against the edge of the tub as I settled in for the conversation.

"Oh yeah. A lot, actually," he confessed. I love that he's so honest, sharing his thoughts and feelings now that I've opened the door. "But I have to tell you, this isn't it. Me on one side of the country, you on the other."

"It does feel like a cruel twist of fate, doesn't it?" I mused.

"I don't have to be here," he offered, implying that if I ask him to come home, he will. As much as I want to see him, I'm not going to stop him from doing what he needs to do.

"Yes, you do."

"Yeah," he agreed softly. "I just don't want you wondering about how important you are to me. That I'm putting a case first, a case that isn't really even mine."

Warmth rushed through me at his remark, the idea that I mean something to him. And of course I _know_ that. I'm not sure to what level just yet, but I _do_ know that he cares. It's still nice to hear it, though.

It's been too many years since I've heard anything close, or at least not without there being strings attached. Jack's famous for telling me he loves me right before asking for money or a signature or a place to stay. With Andy, there doesn't seem to be any ulterior motive. Not that he's saying he _loves_ me, but still…it's nice.

"You're doing the right thing," I assured him.

"I know," he sighed.

"You could tell me about it," I suggested.

"The case?"

"Well, that, yes, but I meant that you could tell me about how you pictured it might be," I said, and I didn't consider it ahead of time, but my words came out sounding extremely suggestive, and I closed my eyes tightly, half afraid and half hoping that he would start weaving a fantasy, because even though that really_ isn't_ what I meant, now that it's on my mind, I'll admit to being curious about what he thinks about, when he lies awake thinking about me.

He chuckled self-consciously and said, "I'm not sure how to respond to that. There are so many ways I could go with this, and I'm pretty sure most of them are wrong."

I smiled as I reached for my wine, enjoying that _he's_ the one who sounds a little flustered, and then he asked, "What was that? Wait, are you in the bath?"

"Yes," I answered simply, and he groaned in response.

"You could've lied," he said. "I'm _three thousand_ miles away, and you're…you're…wow, okay. Let's talk about the case."

His reaction to my location had me feeling decadent and desirable in ways I haven't felt in _such_ a long time, and I wanted to push him on it, to see what he might say, but I held back, and instead we spent the next half-hour talking about our cases, his and mine, and then I told him about the conversation with Rusty last night, and the one with Ricky this morning, and I think I smiled the whole time, just enjoying the sound of his voice.

"I should let you go to sleep," I said at last.

"Are you still in the bath?" he asked, and I laughed lightly at his interest.

"No, I'm out. I'm ready for bed."

"Okay," he said, releasing a long, shaky breath. "Yeah, that doesn't help. I'm still trying to see you in my mind."

"I could tell you I'm wearing a shapeless, full-length flannel nightgown," I said playfully. "Would that help?"

"No. You could be in a gunny sack and you'd still be beautiful."

His compliment was unexpected yet sincere, and I wasn't sure how to respond, because I think it's the first time he's ever really said anything about my looks, and I surprised myself with how much I like knowing that he thinks I'm beautiful.

"Does that mean you want me to tell you the truth? About what I wear to bed?" I asked, looking down at my cotton nightgown, debating whether or not I should embellish a little.

"No, don't tell me anything," he answered softly. "I'm hoping one of these days I'll find out for myself."

I'm almost glad he's not in town, because the way I'm feeling, the way he makes me feel, I'd tell him to drive over here right now. I know I was planning on _not _rushing things too much - and making love with him tonight _would_ be rushing it - so maybe it's a good thing that circumstances are making us wait.

But still…it won't be long, I know. We're at that point. We both want it, and we both care about each other, and it's exciting and terrifying to realize that the question is no longer_ if_ it will happen, but rather just _when_.

I chose to ignore the fear aspect of it, though, and instead I climbed into the bed as I answered, "I'd say there's a really good chance of that."

**TBC...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Andy POV **

* * *

><p>It's Sunday evening.<p>

I've been here barely more than twenty-four hours and it feels like at least a week.

Not because of the amount of progress, but just because I'm lonely. It's crazy, considering I live alone in L.A., so I'm well versed in the routine of being by myself, but I'm filled with the hope of what could very soon be my life - a life with Sharon - and none of that can start while I'm _here_.

Motivation for working more quickly, I suppose. And don't get me wrong, I still very much want to learn these girls' identities. I still want to get to the bottom of their sad story.

It's just that I miss Sharon, too.

And I'll admit that I'm a little worried about something going wrong. I hate the timing of everything, that she's finally ready to express her feelings for me, and to accept that I have feelings for her, and yet I didn't get to stick around long enough to make it comfortable for her. I mean, what if she's having second thoughts? What if me going away makes her change her mind, makes her think too much about the cons of having a relationship with me, makes her decide I'm not worth it?

My musings souring my mood, I roughly slid the keycard in the lock on my hotel room, and shoved open the door, turning to kick it closed with my foot while I threw my jacket in the vicinity of the bed.

_But we just talked last night_, I reminded myself. And she was…sexy. God, was she sexy. I nearly stopped breathing when I heard the quiet slosh of water and realized she was in the bath. And that she admitted it so freely, with just the simple _yes_.

As if the image wouldn't blow me away.

Later, when she said she was ready for bed, my mind immediately flashed onto a dozen different sleepwear possibilities, some innocent and some seductive, but all of them equally devastating to my self-control. I'm not sure there's a strong enough word to describe how badly I want her. I mean, I have for months and months, but somehow knowing that she knows and that she wants me, too…it's sent my desire through the roof.

I might feel bad about that if I _only_ wanted to get her into bed, but that's not the case. The more I learn about her, the more I want to know about her, and the more time I spend with her, the more time I want to spend with her…it's like nothing I've ever felt.

"So figure this thing out and go home," I said aloud in the empty room. "Before she comes to her senses and realizes she can do a whole lot better."

I sat down heavily in the lone chair, flipping open my notes to read back through them.

Yesterday, after I checked into the hotel, I went to the Stafford County Sheriff's Department. Deputy Martin was cordial, but I could tell he thinks I'm crazy.

_"We don't have any missing persons reports for girls matching these descriptions,_" he told me when I entered his office. Sharon must have given him their vital statistics, in addition to the heads up about my presence. "_And we're not big city, Lieutenant. Girls go missing, people notice."_

_"What can you tell me about Mountain Baptist?_" I asked. "_The church doesn't exist anymore, but since when?"_

_"It's been about a year,"_ he answered. "_What makes you think the girls attended?"_

_"The younger one was using a string pack from their summer camp."_

_"That would be from 2013,"_ he said with a nod. _"It was held at a farm off Route 1. But again, I don't see how that's going to help you."_

_"Can you point me in the direction of anyone who might have attended, either the church or the camp_?" I asked, hoping it would give me a starting point.

He seemed reluctant, but he finally came up with half a dozen names.

_"But if you get something out of this, I need to hear about it_," he warned. _"I don't need an LA big shot coming into my jurisdiction and…"_

_"I won't,"_ I interrupted. "_I'm just fishing. If I get something on the hook, you can reel it in."_

I guess he liked my fishing analogy because he suddenly smiled at me, and then he reached for a file on his desk.

_"There are four elementary schools in the county. You won't get anyone until Monday, but if you stop by then and check with the front office, maybe one of the secretaries will recognize the younger one. You said she was ten, right?"_

_"That's right,_" I agreed, gratefully accepting the file. "_And the older one was fifteen, so…high schools?"_

"_Much bigger and a whole lot more anonymity,"_ he said with a shrug. "_Your best bet is finding the little one first, and getting a name."_

I thanked him and left, driving down to Fredericksburg to get a look at the Build-A-Bear. I'm not sure what I thought I'd get from seeing the store, except maybe context. Where else nearby might Janie have shopped? Would she have come alone, or with her mother? I'm trying not to even think about there being a little sister. If there is, I'm not solving this thing fast enough.

What I found in Fredericksburg was an average suburban mall, with the Build-A-Bear store inside. Teenage sales clerks, no video surveillance, and short-term memories.

_"We sold out of those last spring," _the clerk called after me. I guess the helpful tidbit had escaped her until I was on my way out the door.

_"Last spring? And you haven't gotten anymore?"_

_"No, it was a one-time thing. We only got three dozen, and when they were gone, they were gone."_

_"When did you get them?"_

_"I don't know. Last Christmas maybe? Or Thanksgiving? I know it took about six months to sell them, which is why we didn't get anymore."_

I like having the window for when Janie got the stuffed animal, but I was also a little disappointed. If the store still had them, I would've bought one for Sharon. Juvenile, maybe, but come on…it means universal beauty. How could I pass up giving her such a gift when to me, _she's_ the epitome of universal beauty? Intelligence, wit, savvy, caring, thoughtfulness in addition to her extraordinary physical attributes...she's just absolute perfection. I wonder if there's a gift that symbolizes _that._

After my visit to the mall, I stopped and got something to eat and then I drove back to my hotel. It was too late to do much more, since it was already nearly eleven. I had to save most of the legwork for today.

I wasn't going to call Sharon because I knew she was busy with the serial case, especially being a detective down, but then I got a text from Provenza, telling me that they were just finishing up for the night - and of course he asked me for the tenth time what the hell I think I'm doing, investigating a case that isn't ours - so then I figured I'd give her an hour to drive home and get comfortable and then I'd call.

I didn't expect that I'd catch her in the bath.

I've thought about that no less than two dozen times today, and sitting in the chair this evening, with the folder in my lap, I'm thinking about it again.

Did she light candles? Use fragrant bath salts? Bubbles?

God, it's killing me.

Even though I've never seen it in reality, it's not hard for me to picture her, standing in a bathroom lit only by candles, the steam from the bath filling the room as she slowly unbuttons her blouse until it slides to the floor, and then she unzips her skirt, pushing it off her hips so that it falls at her feet…

Is it any wonder I barely slept at all, for thinking about her?

It's finally catching up to me, too, considering it's been three nights in a row that she's taken over my mind in the late night hours, so I leaned my head back and let my eyes fall closed.

My mind is still working, though. It's only eight o'clock, and I've had a full day.

I actually found two people who recognized Janie from the photo, people who went to Mountain Baptist Church.

_"Alana,"_ one woman said confidently, and then she looked at her husband and asked, "_Right?" _

He shrugged and then she said, more to him than to me, "_Or Arianna. Maybe Adrienne? It's something like that. She came a few times, with that little girl who used to live down that road…you remember, honey, Belinda something or other. She and her family moved a few months ago, somewhere up north I think. But I know this is the girl who came with her."_

Another former church member, one who worked at the camp last summer, said she looked familiar to her.

_"Marianne," _she told me. "_I think. She didn't talk much, and I only saw her the one summer. She might have come to a few services with another girl."_

_"So…Marianne?"_ I pushed.

_"No. Melena? It's an M name."_

_Like Virginia is an M state, _I thought in frustration.

"_What about a girl named Belinda?_" I asked. "_Do you remember her?"_

_"Belinda Jordan,"_ she said with a nod. "_She moved to Alabama last summer."_

_"Alabama?" _I questioned, since the other woman said _up north_.

_"I think so. Birmingham, most likely. Her daddy worked for Coca-Cola."_

I interviewed a total of nineteen people today, and I sent Tao an email, asking if he could possibly find a Belinda Jordan registered at any elementary or middle school in the Birmingham area, or a man with the last name Jordan working for Coke, and then I went back to Fredericksburg to check out the bus depot, showing Janie's picture to all of the employees, but again, striking out.

And that surprised me because if she took the bus from here, it would've been only about a week ago, and surely someone would've at least thought she looked familiar, even if they didn't know her name.

I could feel myself fading out as I continued to sit in the chair in the silent room, and I let it happen, figuring I won't sleep too long, and when I wake up, I can call Sharon.

I've barely heard from her all day.

A text this morning.

_**We're closing in on our suspect - hope to make an arrest today.**_

I responded.

_**Be careful. Call me afterwards, when you have time. **_

She hasn't called. I know it can take time, bringing in a guy like that, but I also know that a lot of serial killers prefer suicide by cop rather than arrest. The idea of her being involved in a gunfight…I can't even think about it. I know it's part of the job and that it happens, but damn it, I should be there watching her back.

And the fact that I haven't heard from her, not even a text…

I sat up suddenly in the chair, my thoughts sending a shot of adrenaline through me.

It's five o'clock in L.A., seven hours since she texted.

_Seven hours_, I thought again as I reached for my phone. In all that time, she didn't have a spare second to text me?

Although I haven't texted her, either. But I was waiting for_ her. _

Because we're both working, and she said she'd call…

The display on my phone is blank, so I haven't missed anything. I got up and tossed the file onto the bed with my jacket, and then tried to think rationally.

I'm being paranoid.

She's a police captain, involved in an important bust today. There'll be a press conference, and reporting to Taylor and that's after she gets him into custody and interrogates him, possibly gets a confession. All of that takes time.

Okay, so…she's fine.

And she still wants me.

She'll call.

As I had the thought, my phone rang, but when I checked the display, I saw it was Provenza, and that freaked me out even more.

"What is it?" I answered quickly.

"What? What's what?"

"What's going on?" I asked him.

"I'm the one asking you that question," he retorted. "So you tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Oh for Christ's sake, Flynn. Just spill it."

"Spill what?" I shouted. "You called me, remember? Is everything okay?"

"Is it okay? You mean, is my captain dating my partner?" he yelled, and then he made a snort of disgust as he started on a rant. "I told you it wasn't a good idea. I told you not to pursue her. And now she feels sorry for you, or something, and you'll be all cozy for a few weeks, and then it'll turn bad, and that means it turns bad for all of us because you know it won't stay out of the office."

While I have no idea what prompted his irritation, I _am_ relieved that Sharon must at least be physically fine, or he would've said it right away.

So if she hasn't called me, and they're done working, then maybe it's that she's having doubts about me…

"Hey!" I said sharply, once he let me get a word in edgewise. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Vacation days," he groused. "You. Her. Same time. Coincidence? Not a chance."

Before I could wrap my mind around what he was saying, there was a knock on my door, and my heart went into my throat as I roughly said, "I'll call you back," and then I hung up on my partner, throwing the phone onto the growing pile of things on the bed before opening the door.

The sight of her standing in my doorway, after how much I've missed her, and how worried I was that she might change her mind…I swear, it nearly brought me to tears.

And have I mentioned she looks beautiful? Catching a serial killer this morning, and then flying across the country, followed by renting a car and driving south through D.C. traffic, and she's still the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in my life.

"We finished the case, so I thought you could use some help, and I had a few days to spare," she said, sounding slightly uneasy, like maybe I _won't_ be ecstatic to see her, and I still haven't found my voice, but I did manage to spur my body into action.

I wrapped my arms around her, very possibly holding her too tight, but I couldn't make myself ease up at all, because I'm just so damn happy to see her.

I mean, there aren't any words to express my sense of overwhelming pleasure at the sight of her.

But I don't think I need them, because she's _here_ and she's holding me back just as tightly, and that's really all that matters.

**TBC...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sharon POV**

* * *

><p>I had doubts.<p>

Of course I did.

Not about Andy, but about other things.

Like showing up unannounced.

It was a spur of the moment decision, and I was afraid he might try to talk me out of it. I could've texted, to let him know I was coming, but then he'd want to drive to the airport to pick me up, or he'd worry that he's wasting my time and money.

No, I thought just showing up was a much better way to go.

I also had doubts about making the trip in general.

_"I'm going to take a couple of days,"_ I said to Chief Taylor, after successfully apprehending our serial and obtaining a confession.

_"A couple of days? Why? To do what?" _he asked with incredulity.

But I was ready for him.

_"I haven't taken a day of vacation since I took over Major Crimes. Lt. Provenza is perfectly capable of running whatever case may land in the division, and if for some reason he can't, I'll come back early."_

_"Come back early from where?"_ he questioned with suspicion.

_"From vacation,"_ I stated. _"My time starts in an hour. I'll see you on Wednesday."_

I turned and left his office before he could ask me anything more, and once I was back in my own office, I picked up the phone to make reservations.

_"I need to get on the next flight to Reagan National,"_ I said when my travel agent answered the call. _"And I'll need a car. And a room at the Fairfield in Stafford."_

As I said the last part of that request, Lt. Provenza entered my office. I'd asked him to come see me before leaving for the day, but he was quicker than I expected. I wasn't sure if he heard what I said on the phone, but then he straightened his back and tilted his head, staring at me with both question and accusation.

I held up my finger, indicating that I'd be with him in a moment, and then listened as my agent repeated my needs before letting me know she'd call me back shortly with details.

_"Yes,_ _Lieutenant, thank you,"_ I began, ignoring the inquiry on his face. "_I need to take a few days, so I'm putting you in charge of Major Crimes until I get back."_

_"You're going on vacation?"_ he asked, and if I thought Taylor was suspicious, my lieutenant was downright disbelieving. With Provenza, just his stare alone was like he was putting screws under my nails and shining a light in my face.

_"Two days," _I clarified. _"I'll be back Wednesday, or sooner if you need me."_

_"You've never taken a vacation before," _he stated.

_"I have, actually," _I said, smiling in an effort to relax him. _"Just not in a long time."_

_"So why now?"_

He wanted me to say it, to admit that I was going to meet up with Andy, but I didn't. Instead, I quickly briefed him on what needed to happen while I was away from the office, and told him to text me if another case came in.

He started to leave, but then he stopped in the doorway, looking back at me as he asked, "_Do you know what you're doing?"_

_"Yes. I'm helping a friend."_

He shook his head and then left me alone, but that's something else that makes me doubt my actions.

The potential for my squad to learn the truth about me and Andy.

I'm not sure _I _even know what the truth is, but it's definitely something more than just lieutenant and captain. Much, much more. And I'm not sure how soon I want anyone else analyzing what we mean to each other. Certainly not until I figure it out.

And then there's Rusty.

_"How do you feel about staying in the condo by yourself for a few days?"_ I asked him, once I was home and preparing to pack a bag.

He's in college, and more than capable of staying alone, but it still gave me pause.

_"Why, are you going somewhere?_" he asked, looking up from his laptop to meet my gaze. Then he smiled broadly and said, "_You're going to help Flynn, aren't you?"_

_"I was thinking about it, yes. It's a lot of work for one person, and…"_

_"And you miss him,"_ he interjected.

_"Rusty, there's more to it than that. It's…"_

I trailed off when he shifted his focus back to his laptop and said, _"Just admit it, Sharon. He's been gone thirty-six hours and you're already in withdrawals, so just go pack a bag already. I'll drive you to the airport."_

I stared at him for another moment, amazed and pleased by how utterly remarkable and perfectly_ normal_ he's turned out to be, and then he glanced back up and said, _"Go. Just make sure you two actually solve the case, okay? It __**will**__ require leaving the hotel room from time to time."_

_"Rusty," _I admonished, but he was already back to his work, and it was probably futile anyway, so I went to pack my bag. I could've argued the point that I made a reservation for my own hotel room because I did. I would never just show up and presume that we'd stay in the same room together, but I wasn't about to get into a conversation like that with him. He can tease all he wants, but he doesn't _know_ anything.

But still…so he's home alone, and I have my doubts about that as well, probably because it's ingrained in me to worry about him, and even though he's an adult, he's still susceptible to certain things, like what if his mother writes, asking him to visit, before I've had the chance to confirm that she's still drug-free? He said he won't go see her without talking to me, but it's still a concern, because Sharon Beck is nothing if not manipulative, especially when it comes to Rusty.

Or what if he throws a party? It doesn't sound like something he would do, but teenagers can be sneaky when left to their own devices. Ricky and Emily both tried to pull that one on me. More than once.

So yes, throughout the flight and the subsequent drive, I was flooded with a hailstorm of doubts.

But when Andy opened the door and pulled me into his arms, I forgot about every single one.

"You can't possibly have any idea how happy I am to see you," he said at last, his face still buried in the crook of my neck as it's been for the past several minutes. Not that I'm complaining, because I'm quite comfortably smashed up against his chest, breathing in the scent of him and appreciating the feel of his warm, solid body against mine.

"I might," I countered, leaning into him even more as his hands began to roam over my back. It makes me wish I'd taken my jacket off before I knocked on the door.

He sighed heavily and then slowly eased back as he said with pleasure, "I can't believe you're here."

"I thought you could use some help," I said with a casual shrug, repeating my earlier reason for coming, even though it's only a half-truth.

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still burning into mine, and it's that passion I mentioned, that intensity I used to only equate with cases, but lately it's been turned onto me, and it's breath-taking and heart-stopping, and it makes me want to throw all caution to the wind. Although I suppose I've largely done that, considering I just flew across the country to be with him, but I mean even _more _so. It makes me want to shove him down on that bed behind us and have my way with him.

"And I missed you," I added. "I hated the idea of you being here alone, and I have as many unused vacation days as you, so…"

"Rusty?" he asked, and maybe it's strange, but I love him for asking.

"He nearly got a speeding ticket taking me to the airport," I replied with a smile. "I'm starting to think he was planning a party before I even had my bag packed."

My comment had Andy glancing behind me, to where the door is still open but my suitcase is conspicuously absent.

"I stopped by my room before knocking on your door," I explained, now feeling self-conscious about getting a separate room. "I'm just down the hall."

"Okay," he said, without missing a beat, tipping his head to invite me into the room and then pushing the door closed.

I glanced around the room and my focus settled on the bed. Not surprising, since it's a king sized bed in a small hotel room, but still, it felt strangely intimate, especially considering my thoughts from only moments ago, the ones that had me imagining myself pushing him down on the bed.

This whole thing is starting to feel surreal.

_I don't do things like this._

Anxiety rolled through me, and then he touched me lightly on the shoulder, prompting me to turn back towards him.

"We're straying into that awkward area again, aren't we?" he said with a small smile.

I dropped my gaze to the floor and took a deep breath, reminding myself that _this is Andy_. He's my friend above all else.

"I did warn you that I'd be bad at this," I said as I brought my eyes back to his. The intensity is still there, but it's combined with some amusement, and maybe what I'm feeling is more anticipation than anxiety because I _really_, really like him.

"You're here," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "That makes you _great _at this."

And then he took my face in his hands and brought his lips to mine, and there was no hesitation, just commanding and expert need, and all thought process crashed to a halt as my senses took over, and then his fingers moved into my hair as he changed the angle of the kiss, drawing me closer to him and setting my skin alight.

I had the vague thought that my earlier vision was about to come true and at any moment, we'll be tearing at each other's clothes and falling onto the bed, and I'll remember this hotel forever, as the place Andy and I first made love.

But then he stopped.

"You probably haven't eaten," he said, his voice unsteady in spite of his rational words.

"Not really, no."

"Let's go then, before it gets too late."

Before I could respond, he was already turning away from me, reaching for his jacket and phone that were lying on the bed, and my mind was in a tailspin, trying to catch up to reality.

I still hadn't moved when he turned back around, and I reached out to touch him, resting my palm against his chest, and I was surprised to find his heart thundering loudly beneath my hand.

We stared at each other for a moment, and then he shook his head in frustration and said, "I'm sorry, but if I stay in this room with you for one more minute…I just, I need some air, I think, and then I'll be fine."

I can't explain the emotional rush that went through me at his admission. It's such a heady feeling to be desired so much, by someone I care about so much, and the idea that he's purposely stepping back, presumably waiting for me to be ready…it makes me feel reckless and bold.

"If you stay in this room with me for one more minute then…what?" I pressed, and even I was surprised by the husky, sultry quality of my tone, but I didn't back down.

Instead I moved closer, sliding my hand down the front of his shirt until it rested just slightly above his belt buckle, and I heard him breathe in, rough and ragged, but he didn't exhale, not for several long seconds, until he finally covered my hand with his, holding it in place as he said, "You didn't fly all the way out here for me to take advantage of you in my hotel room. And I'm just so on edge right now…I mean, while I'm hopeful that it might very well be the best two minutes of your life, you deserve a whole hell of a lot better than that."

I love that he can inject humor and honesty into a such a powerful situation, and I had to smile. Most men would've taken my arrival here as a green light, without worrying about details, but Andy's different, and I've known that for a while now, but it still strikes me deeply to recognize just how much he feels for me.

"I came out here to be with you," I stated, knowing that the words are ambiguous and yet both meanings are true.

"Let's go to dinner, and I can bring you up to speed on the case," he suggested. When I didn't respond right away, he let go of my hand and reached out to brush my hair back from my shoulder. "I just need you to know that I want you here. For _you_, I mean, and not just because you tortured me by telling me you were in the bath while we were on the phone last night."

We've both relaxed a little, but I can still feel something so strong between us, this current that's flowing and making me feel so alive and happy.

"Okay," I agreed. "Let's go eat."

Ten minutes later, we sat across from each other in the booth of an Italian restaurant in a strip mall across the street from the hotel.

"I still can't believe you're really here," he said as he reached across the table to take my hand.

"We'll have to do some damage control with Lieutenant Provenza," I said, smiling at him and enjoying the pleasant buzzing feeling that comes from his fingers entwining with mine. "He heard me making travel arrangements, so he knows I'm here."

"He would've known anyway, since you took the time off. I'll head him off, don't worry," he replied, and then he added with seriousness, "He thinks I've lost my mind, you know. He said nothing good could ever come of it."

It makes me feel bad for Andy, that his friend has been encouraging him to ignore his feelings, just because it's me. And I know that Rusty said it's because I'm the boss rather than me personally, but I think it's probably a little bit of both.

"Clearly he's wrong," I replied. "I think something very good has come of it."

Andy nodded, but still looked slightly unsure, so I prompted, "Did he say something else?"

"He suggested that you just feel sorry for me, and that after a few weeks, it'll end badly."

"That's a terrible thing to say to a friend," I said with indignation. "And completely untrue. I don't pity date. And you know, I realized something in the past couple of days."

"What's that?"

"We've already been dating for quite some time. We just didn't call it that."

He stared at me for a beat and then broke into a grin as he said, "Well,_ I _called it that. In my head, anyway."

"Okay, so I'm the one who's slow to catch up," I agreed. "But my point is that we've already lasted a lot longer than a few weeks."

"True."

"And I don't know about you, but I'm not anywhere near being ready for anything to end."

"Not a chance," he said, bringing my hand to his lips for a kiss.

"Good. So tell me where we are in the investigation, and our plan for tomorrow."

I didn't finish that thought out loud because it would've been something along the lines of _so that after dinner we can go back to the hotel and pick up where we left off_, and it astounds me that I have such a one-track mind.

But as much as my body keeps suggesting otherwise, I did _not_ fly out here just to get Andy into bed, so I listened intently while he brought me up to speed.

"We can hit the elementary schools tomorrow," he concluded. "I think that's going to be our best bet, especially since two people do remember seeing her, which suggests we're at least in the right geographical area, right?"

"Yes," I agreed. "And Lieutenant Tao can hopefully find something on the friend, the one in Alabama, since you got the full name. And Buzz is probably scanning those bus depot feeds as we speak."

"We're close," he said with a smile.

"Yes, we are."

Dinner was a quick affair, ostensibly because it's late, but I think we both rushed through it for other, more personal reasons, and as we walked back across the street to the hotel, my stomach was completely tied up in knots. The good kind of knots.

"So, I checked on what time the schools open around here, and it looks like the office people arrive at seven-thirty, and the closest school is only ten minutes from here, so I'm thinking we plan to leave around seven-fifteen?"

"That sounds good," I said.

We exited the elevator, and now I think that he's going to go back to his room, and send me back to mine.

_Because I got the separate room to begin with, so he thinks that's what I want? _

I don't know.

It's funny, though. With Jack, there was never any seduction or foreplay. His favorite lines were, _do you want to_ and _what are you doing for the next five to seven minutes_. He did work at it a little harder, after we separated and I didn't often let him into my bed, but even then it was something along the lines of, _come on, honey, it'll be like the good ol' days_.

With Andy, it feels like the foreplay started a long time ago.

But it's also not a game for him. He's so genuine. No lines, no ego…just heartfelt caring for how I feel and what I want.

And honestly, I want him so badly right now that suddenly I'm the one with no finesse.

"Come back to my room with me," I said, stopping him in the hall just outside of his door. He looked at me with surprise and raised an eyebrow at me, so I added for clarification, "You seem to be concerned about taking advantage of me in your hotel room, so let's go to mine instead."

His eyes darkened and the surprise was replaced with desire, and he briefly tightened his grip on my hand as he said, "I don't want to say no."

"Then don't," I stated confidently, although I'm not sure from where that confidence comes because I'm battling with the biggest case of nerves of my life, not because I'm hesitant about taking this step but because I'm excited and restless and so completely turned on and yes, I'm a little bit scared, too.

It might be that last thing that he can see, I don't know, but he hesitated for another moment and said, "This is too important. I need you to be sure."

As I stood there and looked into his eyes, and I could literally _see _everything he feels for me, and it's the same thing that I'm feeling for him, and it's such an overwhelming wave of emotion that it hit me really hard, the idea that I don't have to wait and figure out what we mean to each other. I already know.

I took a step backwards, moving away from his room, heading towards mine, and I tugged on his hand, encouraging him to follow as I said, "Andy, I'm sure."

**TBC...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Andy POV**

* * *

><p>I went back to my room dressed only in pants.<p>

At six-thirty in the morning.

After spending the night in Sharon's room.

I should be exhausted for a variety of reasons - the stress of the case, now _four_ nights in a row with Sharon consuming my thoughts, _and_ the fact that I lasted considerably longer than two minutes.

Both times.

But I'm not tired at all, and I can't seem to wipe the smile from my face.

I'm glad we're in Virginia instead of L.A. because if I had to show up at the office this morning, our secret would be out.

_"Andy, I'm sure," _she said to me last night as she tugged on my hand, pulling me in the direction of her room.

It wasn't what I was expecting, her propositioning me. Not that I think she was being too forward or anything. I mean, it was obvious to both of us that we were headed in that direction. I guess I just expected to have to romance her a little more. To have to persuade her. And maybe that's not the right word for it, but still…I thought it would be _me_ coming after _her_, every step of the way.

So the fact that she pressed the issue - even after I showed what I consider to be remarkable restraint by taking her to dinner instead of to bed when she first arrived - it caught me off guard.

And it made me feel good. Really good.

I think I've let Provenza get into my head a little, feeling like maybe it's all me wanting her, and yes, she's been reciprocating recently, but how much of that is because I wore her down, or maybe just because the attention is flattering rather than anything about me specifically?

But once we got into her room, she completely eradicated all of my insecurities.

I went in ahead of her and stopped in the middle of the room, turning to watch her as she closed and locked the door and then she leaned against it as the silence fell heavily over the room.

_"We're back to awkward again," _she said, laughing lightly.

I almost offered to leave because the last thing I want is for her to be uncomfortable, but she was looking at me so sweetly and seductively that I stood fast, waiting to see what would happen next.

"_Ricky teased me yesterday," _she continued. _" He said he felt sorry for you, that I made you wait fifty dates before letting you kiss me goodnight."_

_"Fifty dates?"_ I questioned, smiling as she pushed off the door and moved towards me with purpose.

_"An estimate," _she said with a shrug. _"All of our dinners. And then when you did kiss me, I panicked."_

_"Is that what it was? Panic?"_

_"You thought it was rejection," _she acknowledged. _"And after I realized that, I felt so bad for hurting you, but I still couldn't make myself tell you the truth. I'm not sure I even knew what the truth was until just a few minutes ago."_

At that point, I think I stopped breathing. She was standing right in front of me, her green eyes locked on mine, and she reached up to put her palm against my cheek, just holding it there for a moment as she searched my eyes for something, although I'm not sure what, and then she said words I thought I'd never hear.

_"I'm in love with you, Andy. I think I have been for a while."_

And then before I could say anything, she went up on her toes, pressing her body against mine as she reached up to kiss me, and it was devastatingly tender, as if she were trying to show me through her kiss just how much she loves me, and while my brain short-circuited over this new and unexpected information, my body had no problem responding to her. I wrapped my arms around her, sliding my hands beneath her jacket and running over the smooth silk of her blouse, and she moaned as she continued working her mouth over mine with increasing urgency and purpose, so I took it a step further, and untucked the fabric so that I could move my hands under it and feel her even smoother skin.

At that point, things got frenzied and feverish, with each of us pulling off the other's clothes as quickly as possible, although I did take a brief pause to appreciate the red lace of her bra, and the odd random thought rolled through my mind that I've never even touched her breasts _through her clothes_ and yet somehow I'm about to do a whole hell of a lot more than that. Then she unhooked the garment and let it fall to the floor, so that she was standing in front of me wearing next to nothing at all and I don't know how it's possible that she's even more beautiful in reality than in my imagination, but it's the God's honest truth, and then she slipped her hand inside the waistband of my boxers, pushing them to the floor before running her fingers over me with just the right amount of pressure, and that's when I pretty much quit thinking altogether, choosing instead to pull her down onto the bed with me where I divested her of the last remaining scrap of lace and then as I covered her body with mine and looked into her eyes, my mind incapable of thinking anything other than _this is really happening_, I pushed into her fully, without hesitation, and she closed her eyes, just for a second, her head thrown back in pleasure, and for a moment, I could only look at her, burning the image into my memory, and then she opened her eyes, meeting my gaze again and a smile crossed her face as she reached for me, pulling me down for another searing kiss, and I somehow managed to muster enough control to settle into a strong, deliberate rhythm.

And I didn't time it, obviously, but it went on for a while. Long enough that we were both sweaty and out of breath by the time we finished

That was the first time.

The second time was only about half an hour ago.

After spending the night with her wrapped in my arms, I woke suddenly to the realization that I never said it back. I never told her that I love her. I suppose I got a little distracted.

_"Are you okay?"_ she asked, her voice a soft whisper in the still-dark room.

_"You're awake?"_

_"Hmm. Off and on all night."_

_"Because of me?"_

_"Definitely,_" she said, turning in my arms so that she was facing me, and then running her fingers through my hair. "_But in a good way. I'm just not used to sharing a bed anymore."_

_"I guess I didn't ask if I could stay,"_ I acknowledged.

_"I would've said something if I didn't want you here,"_ she answered reasonably, and it was such a Captain Raydor thing to say that it felt like an odd, erotic contrast to have her naked body pressed against mine as she said it.

_"Good,"_ I responded as I stroked my hand over her hair and then continued down her back, pulling her more securely against me.

_"You tensed up a minute ago,"_ she said, going back to what initiated the conversation. "_You aren't having second thoughts, are you?"_

She suddenly sounds so unsure of herself that it nearly breaks my heart, and I have to wonder if there have been men in her life who simply used her for sex, men who liked the challenge or wanted something from her, but didn't really care about her as a person.

And then I realized that of course that's happened…Jack used to do that to her all the time. She's confided in me about him, about their dynamic. Years of him convincing her that he still cares, getting back into her bed, and then disappearing again not long after.

_"I'm not,"_ I said quickly. "_Not remotely, not one single doubt or hesitation, not at all."_

She chuckled at my emphatic response, and then lightly pressed her lips against mine before saying, _"Are you thinking about the case?"_

_"No. I just realized something,"_ I began, taking another second to get up my nerve, although why I don't know since she already admitted her feelings for me last night. _"I love you. And I don't mean I just realized that I feel it, I mean it occurred to me that I didn't say it. But trust me when I tell you that I've been thinking it for a long time."_

That's when she kissed me again, only with more heat and tenacity and then she nudged me over onto my back before moving over top of me, and I wished there were more light in the room so that I could see her better, but I went with the sense of touch instead, learning every flawless inch of her. She was more vocal the second time, and I can't imagine a better sound than my name coming from her lips as I brought her to release. It makes me want to hear it again and again, every day for the rest of my life.

_"What time is it?"_ she asked, several long minutes after we finished, as she still lay stretched out on top of me.

I glanced towards the nightstand and answered, _"Six-fifteen."_

_"Damn," _she murmured, and I smiled at her use of a curse word.

_"What?"_

_"I was ready to go back to sleep, but I guess it's time to get up."_

_"Oh, so you're used to having me in your bed now?_" I teased.

_"Well, I have had you twice, both times in my bed, so…"_

Her unexpectedly dirty comment had me laughing. I love her sense of humor, and it makes me wonder what other enticing tidbits I'm going to learn about her.

_Plenty_, I decided as I entered my hotel room, tossing my jacket onto my bed and then quickly pulling the electric razor from my duffle bag. I only have forty-five minutes to shower and shave and get ready to head to the first of four elementary schools.

I began shaving while laying out clothes, and then I thought about Sharon as she was only minutes ago, wearing my shirt as she walked me to the door of her room.

_"What am I supposed to wear?"_ I asked as she did up a couple of the buttons.

_"You don't need a shirt. You're three doors down," _she said, smiling as she gave me a nonchalant shrug.

_"You're in your room. Why do you need a shirt?"_ I countered, undoing one of the buttons she just closed and then reaching inside, covering her breast with my hand.

_"I don't need it, but I want it," _she said simply, her eyes closing under my ministrations and I had the brief thought that maybe we could go for a third time. But I'm a realist and we do have a case to work, so I reluctantly withdrew my hand and redid the button for her.

_"It's yours,"_ I said, and then I kissed her soundly before saying, "_Get ready, and I'll meet you in the hall in forty-five minutes._"

Which means she's most likely currently in the shower. Where I should be, but I'm moving slowly, taking the time to picture what _she's _doing, now that I have firsthand knowledge of every curve.

_Now is not the time for fantasizing,_ I reminded myself, so I hurriedly finished with the razor and then I emptied the pockets of my jacket and put everything on the dresser. That's usually part of my night time routine, but that routine was shot all to hell last night.

And yeah, I'm still smiling.

As I set my phone down, I saw the light flashing, so I checked the display. Three missed calls and one text, all from Provenza.

I forgot I told him I'd call him back last night. He's probably having a heart attack, wondering what we're doing.

I opened his text message.

_**Don't do anything stupid.**_

I shook my head as I typed a reply.

_**I'm not. We're working. She has her own room - I'm sure you know that because you probably got Tao to pull her credit card statement. We're just friends. **_

I've said those last three words to him at least a hundred times in the past several months, but he doesn't believe me.

_And for good reason, I suppose_, I thought wryly.

Although I think the only word in my entire text that was a lie is _just_. We're definitely friends, and she does have her own room. And I'm not doing anything stupid. I happen to think that being with Sharon is pretty damn smart.

I tossed my phone back onto the dresser and then hurried to finish getting ready, and at exactly seven-fifteen, she knocked on my door.

"You know, I used to wonder how you do it," I remarked, letting her in as I finished tucking in my shirt.

"Do what?"

"You. You're…absolutely stunning," I said, waving my hand, gesturing at her entire body. And I'm not kidding, she is.

"You're biased," she answered, although she still smiled at the compliment. She lingered just inside the door while I went around the room, securing my hardware and grabbing my phone and then reaching for my shoes.

"It's a fact," I said as I sat down on the end of the bed. "And I figured it out, by the way. Last night. It's that you're naturally beautiful one hundred percent of the time, so it doesn't matter if you only have a few minutes to get ready because you just already look that good."

"Those are the kinds of things you're supposed to say _before_ I sleep with you, not after," she said playfully, although her cheeks are flushed with color, and it makes me think that she's not used to compliments, so I made a mental note to do it a lot more often, especially now that I feel like I'm allowed.

With my shoes on, I got up and walked over to her, putting my hands on her waist and pulling her closer to me.

"Before, during, after…all the time. Because it's true," I said, and then I kissed her purposefully because I really like how natural it feels for us this morning, how _not_ awkward, and I'm still glad we're not in L.A., but even if we were, I think we'd be okay. We'd still be able to go to work and be professional.

"You're delirious from sleep deprivation," she deflected when I released her, rushing off in search of my tie that I somehow forgot to set out. I found one, and stood up to put it on, and she pointed me in the direction of the mirror, adding, "And you can't kiss me like that before work, once we're back home."

I glanced at myself and saw the smudges from her lipstick, and I grinned as I swiped at it with my thumb.

"It comes off," I said with a shrug.

She shook her head at me and then meaningfully looked at her watch, and any second I'm expecting the toe-tapping to start, so I reached for my keys and then pulled open the door for her, my tie still hanging loosely from my neck.

She stopped in front of me and took hold of it, knotting it with ease and then sliding it into place, and I'm not sure why, but the action affected me deeply.

"Ready?" she asked softly, her hand lingering against my tie. I put my hand over hers, and I was tempted to kiss her again, but I probably shouldn't push it, since we're kind of in work-mode, but then she reached up and kissed me in such a way that made me think _she_ was affected by the simple intimacy of fixing my tie, too, and then she stepped back and flashed me a smile before moving into the hall, so I followed her and pulled the door closed and we got to work.

It was the last one, of course. School, I mean. We spent three hours visiting three elementary schools, quizzing the secretaries and scouring through yearbooks, but it was the fourth one that finally gave us what we're looking for.

"She does look familiar," the secretary said when I showed her the photo. "Not from this year, though. Maybe not even last year."

She was typing in the computer as she talked to us, so I shared a hopeful look with Sharon and then we waited patiently for her to finish.

"Yes, here," she said triumphantly. "This is her, right?"

She turned her monitor around, showing us an electronic version of a yearbook, zoomed in to the photo of one little girl.

Janie Doe.

Or rather…

"What's her name?" Sharon and I asked at the same time.

"Marcella Hermosa," the secretary said. "This picture is from last year's fourth grade, but you know, I don't think she finished the year…"

She trailed off as she turned the monitor back in her direction and began typing again, and Sharon looked at me and said quietly, "Marcella."

I nodded and then did something I would never do in Los Angeles. I found her hand and gave it a squeeze, letting my fingers trail over hers for an extra second before letting go.

She smiled and started to say something, and then the secretary started talking again.

"Okay, here we go," she stated. "She stopped coming to school in January, the fourteenth to be exact, and normally that would mean she moved away, but no one informed us or requested transcripts."

"Wouldn't her absences have been reported to social services?" Sharon questioned.

"In an ideal world, yes. But I don't see where that happened here. It's possible that her teacher knew, maybe just through word of mouth, that Marcella was moving, but it's also just as likely that she slipped through the cracks."

"Can we talk with her? The teacher?"

"And can we get Marcella's address, the one you have on file?" I added.

She said yes to both, and ten minutes later we left the school, armed with an address and the knowledge that Marcella's mom was possibly remarried.

_"She mentioned it a couple of times, that her mom might be getting married,_" her former teacher told us. "_But I didn't realize that meant she would move until she stopped coming to school."_

_"So you didn't report her truancy?"_

_"No, it wasn't truancy, it was…" _she broke off and then took a breath and started over. "_Marcella was a very smart girl. She loved school, and she never missed a day before that, so I had no reason to suspect anything other than that her suspicions proved true, and that her mother remarried."_

_"What about her sister? Did she talk about her?"_

_"No, I'm sorry, that's all I know."_

"So they moved," I said to Sharon as we walked to the car. "I've been searching here all this time, and this isn't where they lived anymore."

"It's always good to start at the beginning. And it explains the accent," she reasoned. "But maybe Bug was right, too. Maybe they moved to an M state."

"Maryland," I stated with a nod. "Because if the mom was about to get married, it would stand to reason that he's somewhere nearby, don't you think? And if he came into their lives last January…"

"Then maybe he's the reason the girls left," she finished. We looked at each other for a prolonged moment, across the top of the car, and then she said, "Let's check out the address. New owners might have an idea of where the former owners went."

So we drove to Eskimo Hill Road, past the Animal Shelter and the county dump to a gravel driveway that wound its way back through the trees before ending up in a small clearing and in the center of it was a mobile home that had most definitely seen better days.

"This looks like a great place to raise a couple of girls," I said sarcastically as we got out of the car and headed for the porch that was sagging on one end.

"Love is what makes a home," she pointed out, but then I looked over at her and I know she's remembering, just like me, the cigarette burns on both girls' backs. Instead of saying anything more, she purposefully unsnapped her holster and let her hand rest on her weapon as we approached the door.

Not that I think anyone we want is still living here, but you never know.

I motioned for her to wait at the bottom of the steps because I'm not sure if the porch could hold the weight of a house cat, much less a person, so I went up alone and knocked on the door.

It opened almost immediately, and I was grateful that my assessment of the porch was wrong because five cats came running outside as the woman inside stood with her hand holding open the mold-covered screen door.

"Ms. Hermosa?" Sharon asked, and _of course _she's right behind me because she's not about to stand at the bottom of the stairs while I handle this alone. I looked back at her and she just smiled at me and then shifted her focus back to the woman.

"No, she doesn't live here anymore," she answered.

"Do you have any idea where she went?" I asked as I tried to look past her into the residence, but it was dark so I couldn't really see anything.

"No, just that she was happy to be getting a chance to start over. She gave me this place for practically nothing, just to be done with it."

"What was her first name?"

"Who did you say you were again?" she asked as she looked me over.

"We're with the police department," Sharon said smoothly, leaving out the _Los Angeles_ part.

"Did she do something?"

"Would she?"

"Maybe. I got the feeling them three girls were a little too much for her, and you know, she wasn't all right in the head."

"Three girls?" I asked sharply.

"Don't ask me their names, I have no idea, but Gina's her name."

We talked to the woman a few minutes more, trying to gather every little fact we possibly could, but she didn't know much more, and after a while, we left her alone with her cats.

"Three girls," I said as we got back in the car, and then I slammed my hand against the dash as I growled, "Damn it."

"Andy, we're doing everything we can. We'll find the other girl."

I didn't respond, but just started the car and pulled out of the long, winding drive, and once we were back out to the main road, our cell phones began buzzing.

"I guess we were out of service back there."

"Uh huh. It was Lieutenant Tao," Sharon said as she looked at hers, and then she reached over and got into my pocket, pulling out mine and looking at it before saying, "And Lieutenant Provenza."

"Mine can wait. Check your message first," I said.

"You know, I think I'm just going to tell him," she mused as she dialed her voice mail.

"Tell who what?"

"Lieutenant Provenza. I'm going to tell him that we're in love with each other, and that if he can't get over it, he can just put in for retirement because I'm not going to put up with any of his crap."

I glanced over at her, my mood lightened by her sense of humor over the matter because we both know she's not really going to say that, but I like that she's thinking it, and I like the sound of it…we're in love with each other.

Honestly, before yesterday, I never thought it would happen. And the fact that she's not just _giving things a try _with us, but that she's truly in love with me…God, how can I not smile about that?

"He found Belinda Jordan," she said excitedly, disconnecting the voice mail and then immediately dialing another number. "They live in Trussville, outside of Birmingham, and…Mrs. Jordan?"

As she introduced herself, I pulled the car over so that I could put my full focus on the conversation she was about to have, sitting and staring at her while she spoke.

"Are you sure about that? Really? When? Okay, do you know what that is? Okay, thank you, you've been such a help. No, I'm sorry, it's…yes."

Her face clouded over as she explained about Marcella's passing, and then she thanked the woman again before hanging up and looking at me with barely contained enthusiasm.

"Marcella's mom got married to a man she met on the internet," she told me. "She moved to be with him, somewhere outside of St. Louis."

"Missouri," I said. "That was your first guess."

She hummed her agreement and said, "Mrs. Jordan doesn't know exactly where they went, and she doesn't know Gina's married name, but Andy…"

"Yeah?"

"Alice. Her name is Lucita."

More than two months of searching to learn the girl's name.

I sat back against my seat, exhaling heavily as I closed my eyes for a moment, and then I felt Sharon's hand closing over mine.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm…yeah," I said, opening my eyes again to find her watching me carefully. "You know what this means, right?"

Because knowing the name isn't enough.

She smiled warmly and squeezed my hand as she said, "I'd say it means we need to go pack our bags. We're going to Missouri."

**TBC...**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sharon POV**

* * *

><p>It was nearly midnight before I was finally ready for bed, and to say that I'm exhausted would be a huge understatement.<p>

We spent the first half of the day in Stafford, and then we drove back to Reagan National. The two rental cars meant we had to drive separately, but I was actually relieved to be in the car by myself, not because I don't enjoy spending so much time with Andy, but because during the drive, Emily called.

And she was practically squealing with delight.

"_Rusty said you went out of town with Andy Flynn!"_ she shouted, so loudly that had he been in the car, he would've had no trouble hearing her clearly.

_"You don't have to yell in my ear," _I reminded her, and then I asked, _"When did you talk to Rusty?" _

_"That's not the question,"_ she fired back, still sounding giddy, like a teenager. "_The question is are you sleeping with him? I mean seriously? Because I know I said to go for it and life's short and all that other crap, but oh my God…Mom!"_

I was laughing at her dramatics, although not so she could hear me because I certainly don't want to encourage her.

She doesn't _need_ encouragement, because she was still on a roll.

_"I never thought you'd actually take my advice! I mean, yeah, I thought you might not freak out the next time he tried to kiss you or something, but are we seriously talking about sex here?"_

She finally paused a second, just long enough for me to get a word in, so I said, "_**We **__aren't talking about sex. You are."_

_"That's not a no. And you're on a road trip with him. That kind of thing has sex written all over it."_

_"I'm working a case with Lt. Flynn that took us out of town," _I corrected.

_"I can't believe this,"_ she said, still sounding enthusiastic which I took as a good thing. Not that I plan to tell her about last night, or this morning - both of which were incredible - but it's nice to know that she approves of the man I love. Of course I'm not going to tell her _that_ yet either, that I'm in love with him.

I'm still getting used to the idea myself.

_"So you spent last night in a hotel with him?" _Emily pushed.

_"We stayed in the same hotel, yes."_

_"You're not going to get me with semantics,"_ she warned. "_Did you have your own room?"_

_"Yes," _I answered, smiling at the fact that I _was_ getting her with semantics, but then she asked, "_And did you stay in it? All night? Alone?"_

She wasn't as easy to deceive as I'd hoped. It's almost funny that she's using my interrogation techniques on me.

_"I stayed in my room all night, Emily," _I said with attitude. _ "And do I need to remind you that __**I'm**__ the mother?"_

She was quiet for a few seconds and then she started up again, saying, _"Oh my God, you didn't say you were alone! That was on purpose, wasn't it? Because I know you can't stand to lie, so you just leave things out and hope no one will notice…oh my God, so you really did it! You slept with Andy Flynn! And he's so cute, way to go, Mom! So was he good? Is this going to be a thing?"_

Her excitement increased with every word and I found myself utterly tongue-tied as she went on and on with question after question.

It's not that I don't want to share with her, but it just doesn't feel right, talking about it with someone other than Andy, and I know she's my daughter, but still…

_"Mom? Are you still there?"_ she asked, finally picking up on my silence.

_"I'm here. I was just waiting for you to get it all out of your system."_

_"That's all you're going to say?"_

_"What is it that you want me to say, Emily?"_

_"Hmm…I want you to say that you're happier than you've ever been because you just had the best sex of your life. I mean, no offense to Dad or anything, and you know, I really don't even need to be thinking about that because somehow that seems different. I mean, no kid wants to think about their parents doing it, but you know, he was a long time ago, and you haven't been with anyone for a while, or at least I don't think you have, and I just think it would be really cool if you've found someone, now that your kids are out of the house, or at least mostly, and Andy seems like such a great guy, and he's a total fox for a guy his age, and Rusty says he's really nice to you, and that's great, but I also don't want to see you settle for someone who doesn't make your toes curl, you know what I mean?"_

I was laughing again, from beginning to end of her entire monologue, and I think she missed her calling because even though she's an excellent dancer, she would probably bring down the house on stage as an actress.

_"So are you? And did you?"_ she pressed.

_"I am,"_ I said carefully. And when I didn't say more, she was completely silent, letting the moment hang in the air, until I finally caved and said, "_And I did."_

In the car behind me, Andy probably heard her scream, and then she settled down and said, "_I'm really happy for you. I mean that. And good for you for going after what you want." _

We talked a few minutes more, and I managed to escape the conversation without divulging any details, but it made for a tiring drive.

After turning in the vehicle and meeting back up with Andy, we went through security and got on our flight to St. Louis.

_"I talked to Tao on the way up here," _he told me as we settled in our seats on the plane. "_Well, Tao and Provenza, but I'll start with Mike's news. He found Marcella Hermosa registered at Holman Elementary School in Breckenridge Hills. It's a suburb of St. Louis. He couldn't access the database to find her personal information, but I figured we can confirm that in the morning."_

_"That's good,_" I said with a smile. _"We'll go there in the morning, and surely they'll have an address on file."_

_"Uh huh,_" he agreed, and I can tell he's feeling the excitement about it, too. It's hard to believe how much we've accomplished in just a couple of days, and the idea of finding answers is quite gratifying.

_"You next,"_ he added. _"I could see you on the phone, so…Rusty? Or Ricky? Or Emily? I'm going with Emily."_

_"Nice work, Detective,"_ I smiled. _"Yes, she's…something else."_

I told him about our conversation, or the gist of it anyway, and he grinned broadly as he remarked, "_Is it weird that I'm glad Emily approves of me banging her mother?"_

_"I didn't exactly say it like that,_" I said, nudging him with my leg. "_But yes, she seems pretty happy about it. Although she will tell Ricky and Rusty, probably even before we land in St Louis. She's not like me in that respect. She couldn't keep a secret if her life depended on it."_

"_Fine by me. Your boys like me,_" he said after a moment's pause. "_I think we'll be okay."_

I hummed my agreement, and then asked, _"So how did it go with Lt. Provenza?" _

He rolled his eyes and said, "_He's like a broken record with the __**it'll never happen**__ line_."

_"Funny,"_ I mused as I took his hand._ "Seems to me it __**did **__happen. Twice. Well, so far."_

He laughed and I leaned my head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness that's now allowed, and then he said quietly, "_I assured him that I've been very focused. And that I haven't once tried to talk you into my bed."_

It was my turn to laugh because it was _me _who invited him into my hotel room last night, so that statement was truthful.

And Andy's been extremely focused. Just sometimes on me instead of the case.

Emily was right when she said I like to avoid the truth by just _not saying _rather than telling lies, and it seems Andy's pretty good at that, too.

_"I don't know why he's so worried about it,"_ he continued. "_I mean, he's the one with five ex-wives. Well, four, but five cases of failed relationships."_

"_That's probably exactly what worries him. Because he doesn't have any successful experiences to draw from, so he thinks they'll all end badly."_

_"He did make that comment about Sykes and Cooper,"_ he acknowledged thoughtfully.

_"Just don't think his pessimism has anything to do with you,"_ I stated. "_You're…"_

I trailed off because there are so many words I could use to describe him, but none of them quite capture how incredible I find him.

_"Beyond words?"_ he asked in amusement.

_"You're exactly who I need in my life."_

He held my gaze for another moment, and his touched expression made me glad I shared my feelings. He leaned over and kissed me lightly, and then he settled back in his seat, resting his head on top of mine, and he was out like a light, only minutes after takeoff.

Once we landed, we picked up a rental car and then drove out to a hotel near the Breckenridge Hills area, and after checking in, we stopped by the in-house restaurant for a bite to eat before retiring for the night.

That was an hour ago, and now I'm ready for bed.

"That's not fair," Andy said as I slid under the covers, moving right up against him.

It should probably feel strange that we're sharing a hotel room, since it involves more than making love and sleeping, but it doesn't, and he went through his nightly routine before climbing into bed, and I just finished mine before turning off the light and joining him.

"What's not fair?"

"You turned off the light before I could see you," he answered petulantly, running his hand down my side and over my hip. He has such wonderful hands, and he's extremely tactile, which I love, so I sighed with contentment, scooting even closer to encourage him to continue his exploration.

"You've seen me," I answered with practicality. "It all looks the same as it did this morning, I promise."

"I mean I didn't get to see what you wear to bed. Two nights ago you said that one of these days I'd find out, and then last night you didn't wear anything at all. Which by the way, is a personal favorite of mine."

I laughed lightly as his fingers slid beneath the hem of my nightgown, a short silky garment that I don't wear regularly but I do like it, and I packed it in case of an occasion just such as this.

"You want me to get up and turn the light back on?" I offered, knowing he won't say yes, especially since his hand is now moving upwards, still beneath the nightgown, and his touch is sparking a need in me that makes me completely forget about being tired.

"No," he murmured as his lips worked along my neck and his hand swept over my breast, and his words came out as a low rumble when he said, "You won't have it on that long. Maybe later."

I may have been cold when I first got into the bed, but after only a minute, my skin feels like it's glowing from heat, and then he urged me onto my back, so I rolled over and he moved over me, sliding the nightgown up to my waist and then using his lips to continue moving it incrementally higher, kissing the skin as he exposed it, and then inching it up a little more and he's making me so restless with need and impatient for the feel of him inside of me. I just can't believe how he makes me feel. I mean, I thought about it before, what it might be like with him, but I guess none of my previous experiences allowed me to imagine that it could be _this_ good.

He took his time with me, shoving the blankets out of the way and then kissing and touching me everywhere, to the point where I was nearly crazy with anticipation, and then he finally made his way up to my lips, covering my body with his as he kissed me stirringly, while at the same time he eased into me oh so slowly and I was already_ so close_ that the first stroke was all it took to send me breaking apart, the white hot flood of pleasure rolling through me in waves.

He stilled for a moment, waiting for me to open my eyes again, and once I did, he started a deep, purposeful rhythm that reignited the fires in me, and it wasn't long before I was right back at the edge again, only this time I took him with me.

"Aren't you glad I took a nap on the plane?" he asked after we spent several minutes recovering.

"This was you, after a nap?" I asked, rolling towards him and running my fingers over his chest. "Okay, that settles it. You get a half-hour naptime every afternoon, and that's a direct order from your captain."

He chuckled and pulled me up against him, his lips near my ear as he said, "This was me, with_ you_."

The man says the sweetest things. If I didn't already love him, I'd be well on my way. It's a little unsettling, just suddenly feeling so strongly for him, and I have to keep reminding myself that it's _not_ sudden, and that I'm not being impetuous by taking this step with him. It's been building for months, and it's only just recently that I stopped _denying_ the feelings.

"Emily said I shouldn't settle for anyone who doesn't make my toes curl," I said, the comment popping into my head arbitrarily, and yet not really, considering the things he just did to me…

"Sage advice," he mused. "So...do I need to check? Are they curled?"

"I don't even know what that means," I admitted on a laugh. "But if it relates to a certain level of sexual gratification then I'm going to say they're curled."

"A certain level…" he repeated. "Huh. I think I'm going to need a number."

His response kept me chuckling, and I love this feeling, talking and laughing while being wrapped up in each other in bed.

"What? What kind of number?" I asked him.

"One to ten," he said teasingly, and his hands are still active, still touching me lightly in random places, creating a constant humming of pleasure flowing through me.

"I don't think I should say," I taunted, and he grunted in protest and then his fingers gravitated to more ticklish spots as he shifted to get a better hold on me, and even though I would've denied ever being ticklish at all, he started an assault on me that had me crying from laughing so hard.

"Okay, ten!" I admitted, and he stopped, pulling back to look at me questioningly.

"See? That's all you had to say," he quipped, settling onto the bed next to me again.

"You just extorted my answer," I accused playfully as he began running his fingers through my hair.

"I'm not sorry," he replied, leaning back towards my ear and moving his lips over it for a moment before saying, "I love the sound of your laugh. It was worth whatever payback I'll have to face."

I smiled in the dark, shifting against him to get comfortable again and closing my eyes to the pleasurable feel of him stroking my hair.

"I won't get payback," I said after another few minutes. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Why not?" he asked, his voice sounding sleepy and content.

"Because I lied."

"I had a feeling. I mean, ten would be perfect and…"

"Eleven," I interrupted softly. "At least."

I may have had trouble sleeping on Sunday night, but Monday night was no problem at all. I was out cold until the alarm sounded at six-thirty.

We got up and got ready with the ease of a long-time couple, trading places in the shower and at the bathroom sink, and only bumping into each other a couple of times. Although that might have been on purpose, because Andy's bumps were accompanied by his hand running over my backside, or his lips finding their way to my neck. I love how demonstrative he is, and it brings out that side of me, too, which is something that's been dormant for what feels like forever.

By seven-thirty, we were in the car, heading for Holman Elementary.

"You think this is it?" Andy asked me as we drove through the St Louis rush hour traffic.

"I don't see there being another Marcella Hermosa in elementary school in this area," I reasoned.

"They'll give us an address. We may very well be able to put this thing to rest by the end of the day."

If not, I have to call Chief Taylor and arrange to take another day, but I'll wait on that. I might have to do it regardless, depending on how quickly we wrap it up, and when we can get a flight back home. I don't want to stay much longer, but I have to see it through, and not just for Andy's sake, but for mine, too. And for these girls, who deserved better.

Andy was quiet as we made the drive, and I shifted my body towards his, resting my hand on his thigh in support.

It's going to feel strange to go back to work at home, and not be able to touch him all of the time.

I'm almost afraid I won't remember that I _can't_.

Funny how quickly I've gotten used to the intimacy and the comfort that comes from displays of loving affection. Even with Jack, there wasn't a lot of touching going on, unless it was a means to an end. I could always tell when he was in the mood for sex because that's about the only time he ever offered physical contact, and I got to the point where I avoided making the effort with him, since it was rarely reciprocated.

But with Andy, things feel so natural. Although I'm not sure how to handle our off hours yet. I mean, Rusty knows that we're together, but I'm not sure that means it's okay for Andy to sleep over, or for me to sleep at his place. It feels…I don't know. Something. I don't want him to equate me with his mother, and her revolving door of men. Not that I'm like that at all, but I don't know if having Andy stay the night would invoke that type of visceral memory for Rusty. It's something to consider, and maybe a conversation I need to have with him.

Since he's on my mind, I decided to send him a quick text message, before the day gets away from me. It's still early in L.A., but he'll see it when he wakes up.

_**Good luck on your anatomy quiz. I'm sure you'll do great. Trying to close this case today, so I might be home tonight. I'll text you later. **_

I sent him one yesterday, too, letting him know that I'm now in St. Louis, but I haven't spoken with him on the phone since Sunday evening, during the drive from D.C. to Stafford.

He's fine, though, I know, and he's busy with his classes, so he probably barely notices my absence.

"Rusty?" Andy asked as I put my phone away.

"Just a quick check-in," I said. "He'll reply later when he wakes up, I'm sure."

"Nothing from Ricky yet?"

"Oh, you mean about you?" I asked with a smile.

He shrugged and nodded, and I squeezed his leg in support as I realized that he _is_ a little nervous about what my kids think of him. He knows they like him, but since he's still working to fully repair the relationship with his own kids, maybe that makes it harder for him to believe that mine are okay with me dating him.

"I'm sure he'll call me at some point, but the fact that it wasn't immediately after my conversation with Emily tells me that his mother's love life isn't viewed as a crisis," I assured him as we pulled into the parking lot.

He cut off the engine and we got out, walking towards the office. Holman Elementary was almost a carbon copy of the school back in Stafford. It made me wonder if Marcella felt at home here, but I found out differently once we sat down with the principal.

"Marcella didn't really fit in," she told us, after inviting us into her office. "She was quiet, and didn't make any friends, always keeping to herself."

"She finished out the fourth grade here last spring?"

"Yes. And she enrolled in fifth grade this year, but she only attended sporadically, and we haven't seen her at all for a couple of weeks."

"Tell us about Marcella's grades," I said, and that seemed to surprise the woman, but Marcella's last teacher told us she was smart, so I'm wondering if we can pinpoint when the abuse started, based on when her academics faltered.

"Not good. She tested out as possibly qualifying for the fifth grade, when she joined us, but her mother chose to keep her in fourth. And she started out good enough, but within a couple of months, she was barely keeping a C average, and by the end of the school year, she had D's in all of her classes, just enough to move up to the next grade."

"Do you have an address?" Andy asked, and I can tell by the way he's clenching his jaw that he read between the lines, just like me.

Because we've seen it too many times.

The most likely scenario is that Lucita – Alice – left home within the first two months of moving here, probably because the new husband started in on her. Once Lucita was gone, Marcella became the target, and being younger, it took her longer to get up both the nerve and the money to run away.

"What about her little sister?" Andy questioned. "Is there another girl here by the name of Hermosa?"

"No," the principal answered blandly as she handed over the piece of paper with Marcella's address.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes, I went through the enrollment roster yesterday, after speaking with your colleague."

"Okay, what about another girl who transferred here mid-year?" I posed. We know that Gina Hermosa is on her second marriage, but it's also possible that it's a third, and maybe the other little girl has a different last name.

"I wouldn't be able to access that information, not without going through each individual record. Our system isn't set up that way. Can I ask what this is about?"

"No," Andy said shortly as we stood up to leave. He held the door for me, and then had his hand on my back, ushering me through the parking lot as he leaned in close and said, "This is twice she's fallen through the cracks. The Stafford teacher should've questioned why she wasn't in school. And these people here…no one cared that she didn't show up, no one cared that her grades weren't up to par…the whole system stinks."

"It does," I agreed. "But we have an address. Let's call the locals. We should have someone meet us there."

"We will, but on the way. If that other little girl is still in the house…God, Sharon, what if he's doing something to her right now? Or yesterday, while we were still searching in the wrong place?"

"We'll get him," I said.

The words aren't much, but it's all I have at the moment.

We got in the car and Andy put the address into the GPS.

"It's only three miles from here," he stated as he put the car in gear.

"Good, we'll be there in five minutes. You call the SLPD and I'm going to check in with Lt. Tao and see what information he can get for us on the owner of this house. I'd like to know who we're dealing with before we get there."

He nodded and pulled out his phone while I hit the speed dial for Mike. Once I had him, I passed on the address and then listened to Andy while waiting for my lieutenant to give me the answers.

"Yes, this is Lt. Flynn with the LAPD. Can you put me in touch with the precinct in charge of Breckenridge Hills?"

"Captain?" Mike said as he came back on the line.

"Yes, what've you got?"

"The home in question is titled to a man by the name of Brad Forrester. He's been in that house for twelve years, and…" he paused but I could hear him typing, so I know he's looking for a criminal record or anything relevant.

"Yes, thank you," Andy was saying. "Yes, LAPD. That's right. Yes, I'll hold."

He glanced over at me and rolled his eyes, and now we're less than a mile from the home in question, and then Mike spoke up saying, "No criminal record, but…holy crap. Um…Captain? This guy's a police officer."

"What?" I said on reflex, and then I hung up on Mike as I quickly said, "Andy, hang up. And pull over."

He immediately did as I asked and then turned to me and said, "What is it?"

"The step-father is a member of the SLPD."

"Shit," he muttered, and that's my thought exactly because that changes the whole dynamic.

It means, if he's home, that he's likely armed.

It means he has his brothers in blue on his side, making it harder to prove he's done anything wrong.

And it means I'm going to have to alert Chief Taylor to where I am and why I'm here because if I make this type accusation against a fellow officer, there's going to be fallout.

"Maybe the address is wrong. Maybe this isn't our guy," Andy suggested. "I mean, what are the odds?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "We're going to have to go in soft. We'll see who's home, confirm the situation, assess the status of the other sister, and get a feel for the males in their lives who could be potential suspects."

"Okay," he agreed. "So no phone calls upfront?"

I hesitated while I went over it in my mind.

I should apprise Taylor, and I really should call the SLPD.

It would be the right thing to do.

But I also don't want to risk a cover up. This Officer Forrester might not be the abuser but if he isn't then why aren't there missing persons reports filed for either girl? And why hasn't anyone sounded the alarm now that_ two_ of his stepdaughters have gone missing?

"No, we're not going to tell anyone," I decided. "But we have to tread very, very carefully."

**TBC...**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Once again, I'm WAY behind on review replies, but I'm trying to finish this story before the 24th, and there are only so many hours in the day...please know that each and every review is SO greatly appreciated! Thanks to everyone! And especially thank you to Camilla :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Andy POV**

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><p>"Tell me the truth. How much trouble are you in?"<p>

"You aren't worried about how much trouble _you_ might be in?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

We're on the plane, headed for home, and I have mixed emotions about it. I love my job, and I love living in L.A., but being on the road with Sharon has been unbelievably great, and I'm a little concerned about how things are going to go, once we're back.

"I'm used to trouble," I deflected as I clasped her fingers with mine. "You, on the other hand…"

"I _frisked_ the Deputy Chief of Operations," she reminded me purposefully.

"Yeah, but he liked it," I teased. "You've never been in Andy Flynn kind of trouble."

"True," she mused. "I don't think I am this time, either."

I hate the idea that she might get called on the carpet by Taylor when we get back, but it doesn't seem to be bothering her.

Maybe because we did a good thing here.

We got our man.

And if we didn't exactly go by the book, it's because the book never anticipated a situation quite like this.

_"He's going to be here any minute."_

The words were said solemnly to me by the dark-haired little girl who sat next to me on the front steps of the Forrester home.

She'll be eight next week. That's one of the first things she told me after she and I sat down outside so that Sharon could talk with Gina in private.

At that point, in spite of it being a heart-wrenching situation, things were still going mostly as we planned.

_"Are you sure about this?" _I questioned Sharon earlier, when we were still in the car, parked in the driveway.

Any other time, with anyone else, and I never would've asked, but I couldn't let Sharon get into trouble because of me, and I had to make sure she wasn't compromising her morals purely because _I'm _so caught up in this case that I've lost a bit of perspective, and I've somehow managed to drag her in with me.

_"It's a courtesy to call the local police department, not a requirement," _she stated smoothly. _"We aren't trying to make an arrest here, so we aren't violating jurisdiction. We're simply going to inform a mother about the news of her daughters' passing. And if while we're talking with her, we can learn something incriminating against the stepfather, or whoever else might be responsible for the abuse, then we'll make a call. But if we call __**now**__, and we have to wait, with the possibility that it **is** the stepfather, and he's in the home, maybe harming another little girl…"_

She left the rest unsaid, but that was fine. I knew where she was going with that, and she assuaged my potential sense of guilt with her well thought-out argument, so I unbuckled and got out of the car.

_"I need you to keep a cool head,"_ she said after a moment. "_If we don't do this the right way…"_

_"I know. I will."_

_"Let me do the talking. You just listen, to what she's saying and what she's __**not**__ saying," _she instructed.

There was no cruiser in the driveway, which was a good sign, but domestic situations always have the potential to go sideways, so it was with great caution that we climbed the front steps, and then shared a look for a brief moment before knocking on the door.

Gina answered, and seemed intoxicated despite the early hour.

_"What do you want?"_ she asked after we offered our names. Her words were all jumbled together and she wouldn't make eye contact.

_"We're here to talk to you about your daughters," _Sharon said.

_"Anna's in the other room. She's fine."_

_"She's here?_" I asked quickly. I wanted to look around the house, but we were still on the front porch, not yet having been invited inside. "_Is anyone else here with you?"_

_"No. Wait, who's asking?"_

_"We're from Los Angeles,"_ Sharon answered. _"We have information about Lucita and Marcella."_

_"My babies? You know about my babies?_" she asked, suddenly looking up at us, her eyes tired and red, and then her face clouded over and she said, "_Liars, both of them. They left me, you know."_

_"Mama?" _a voice said from behind her in the darkened room.

"_Go back to your room, Anna!"_ Gina yelled at her, but the girl peeked her head around from behind her mother.

_"You're from Los Angeles?_" she asked, locking her eyes on mine.

"_That's right, sweetheart,"_ I said, and I was surprised when the girl eased out past her mom and slid her hand in mine, looking up at me with adoration. Sharon caught the look, too, because she immediately said, "_Mrs. Forrester, can we talk inside? Anna will be fine with Andy, on the front porch."_

Gina only hesitated for a moment, and then she nodded and led Sharon inside.

Convenient for us, that I was able to talk to the girl alone, but what kind of mother lets her child go with a strange man, even only to the porch? I mean, we never said we're police. In fact, we made a point not to, since it's irrelevant in this situation.

But Anna took an instant liking to me, so when we sat down on the top step, she began talking nonstop.

_"Did Lucita send you? She did, didn't she? Just like she promised. And Marcella, she's there, too, right? Are you taking me back to Los Angeles?"_

_"You were supposed to move to LA with your sisters?"_

She nodded gravely, still holding my hand, and then she said in a quiet voice, "_My mom thinks I don't know. She thinks I'm just a baby, but I'm almost eight. On Sunday, I'll be eight. And that's old enough, don't you think?"_

_"Old enough for what, honey?"_

_"To know that what he was doing is wrong. He was hurting her. Lucita. She wouldn't tell me how, but I know he used to get into bed with her at night."_

As if my heart weren't already breaking.

_"And when she left, she said that me and Marci would be okay for a while, because we're too young. She said she'd get a job and make some money, and then she'd send for us."_

_"Did you hear from her, after she left?"_

"_She sent a couple of postcards. One from Las Vegas. She went there first, but then she moved to Los Angeles, and the last postcard we got, she was so happy. She said she was making money, working for a really nice lady, and that pretty soon, she'd have enough for us to live with her. Me and Marci saved up, too, and sometimes we'd…"_

She stopped suddenly and looked up at me with a guilty expression, and I encouraged her by saying, "_It's okay. What did you do to get money?"_

_"Sometimes Brad would be passed out, when we got home from school, and when he was, we'd take money from his wallet," _she whispered. "_We needed enough for bus tickets. And we had it, but then Lucita never called or wrote…and she was wrong about him not hurting us. He started getting into bed with Marci a few months ago, and that always made her cry."_

_"Did he hurt you, too?"_ I asked carefully.

She looked at me for such a long time, her luminous eyes fixed on mine, and I found myself holding my breath, and then she said in a shaky voice, _"Not yet. But last night, he stood in my doorway. I pretended to be asleep, and he finally went away, but he'll be back, I know it."_

Then she dropped her eyes again and said, _"And he found the money I had hidden in my drawer. I don't have enough for a bus ticket anymore." _

From inside, I could hear Gina's raised voice.

"_I just wanted to be happy! I deserve to be happy, after giving up some of the best years of my life to the three of them. I don't think it was too much to ask, do you? To move out here so that I could be with the man I love? But then Lucita had to tell lies about him, and it only made him angry, until she finally left. And then Marcella…ungrateful, is what they are! He put a roof over our heads, and food on the table, and that's how they thank him?"_

_"So just to be clear," _I said, trying to pull Anna's focus back to me. "_Who was the man doing this? Who was hurting you and your sisters?"_

"_My mom can't help being mean,_" she responded, still listening to her mother's rant. "_She takes medicine to make her think right, but once we moved out here, she started drinking, and the medicine doesn't work when she does that, so she forgets things, or she says things that aren't nice, or sometimes she sits for hours without saying anything."_

"_They're dead?"_ Gina shrieked, and then I heard Sharon's comforting tone, although her words were indistinguishable, and Anna's hand tightened its grip on mine, but she didn't ask, and as smart as she seems, I figured she already knew that something had happened to her sisters.

_"Anna,"_ I said gently. "_ I need you to tell me his name."_

"_It's Brad,_" she said, finally turning to look at me again, and her eyes are filled with tears, but none fell. "_He's going to be here any minute." _

_"Your stepdad? He's not at work?"_ I asked quickly.

_"He works nights, midnight to eight. I should be in school, but I couldn't leave Mama by herself because she was drinking already. I'm going to get into trouble, for not going to school."_

_"No, you won't."_

I got up and told Anna to wait on the step, and then I pushed open the door, calling to Sharon. Gina was a mess, but she was still mumbling about how her daughters ruined her chance at a happy marriage, and I could tell that Sharon had heard about enough.

_"She named him. Brad,"_ I said with quiet urgency. _"And he's on his way. You need to make the call before he gets here."_

But before she could do that, we heard an engine rumble into the driveway, and I hurried back out onto the porch, with Sharon on my heels, just as Brad was getting out of the black-and-white. He was still in full uniform, his gun in its holster, and I noticed Anna shrink towards the newel post, trying to make herself as small as possible.

He started up the walk, and that's when he saw us, and he slowed his hulking frame to a halt. He looked at us questioningly, and his hand gravitated towards his gun, and I pulled back my jacket to reveal my weapon, just to let him know that drawing his would be a bad idea.

_"Go inside, Anna,"_ Sharon said in a gentle, but firm voice. "_Take your mother to the back of the house."_

Sad that the instructions had to be given to the child, but it was the best way to have them followed, because Gina - apparently clueless about her husband's arrival - could still be heard ranting about the injustice of having selfish daughters.

With Anna safely inside, and Sharon and I stood together on the porch, and the moment stretched out between us as we waited to see what Brad would do next.

The odd thing about domestic abusers is their wide range of responses to getting caught, running the gamut from indignant denial to cowardly excuses to sobbing relief.

Brad went the cowardly route, and for that, I was grateful because outrage might've prompted him to draw his gun, and not that I'd mind shooting a dirtbag like this guy, but if I shot someone while out of jurisdiction there'd certainly be a whole lot more red tape.

But he didn't pull his gun. Instead, he turned and hustled back towards his car. I went down the stairs three at a time and ran across the yard, catching his door just as he was trying to close it. I got my body between the door and the frame, and paid for it with a whack to the side of the head by the top edge of the metal door, but it kept him from getting it closed. He kept tugging on it with one hand, while frantically trying to put the key in the ignition with the other, but then I heard Sharon's voice.

_"Drop the keys and get out of the car," _she ordered, and damn if her voice didn't make _me_ want to comply, even though I wasn't the suspect.

He stopped beating me with the door, and I was able to look over and see that Sharon was pointing her gun at him, through the passenger side window.

_"You've got the wrong guy,"_ he said belatedly.

_"Then get out and explain it to us," _I said, wrenching the door fully open now that he was no longer holding onto it, and then I took him by the arm and yanked him out.

I wasn't sure what to do at that point, because we couldn't make the arrest, but our problems were solved when we heard approaching sirens, and a minute later, two cars whipped into the driveway, the four officers quickly getting out and taking Brad into custody, leaving Sharon and me completely dumbfounded.

With the suspect cuffed and in the backseat of one vehicle, two officers came over to us, hands extended.

_"Lt. Gibson. This is my partner, Detective Kline. You must be Captain Raydor and Lt. Flynn."_

We shook hands, but our confusion must have been evident because Gibson continued.

_"Lt. Tao called us, and said you might need a hand."_

_"He did?"_ Sharon asked in surprise. "_We were only here to do a notification. It just turned into…"_

She trailed off and gestured towards the cruiser, still parked with its driver's door open.

_"Let's just say that due to a past incident, we've been quietly looking into his actions,_" Kline explained. _"When your lieutenant explained about Lucita and Marcella turning up in your morgue, with obvious signs of abuse…I'm only sorry we didn't pursue it a little harder."_

_"What type of incident?" _I asked. Without a doubt, the so-called incident is something Mike found, and that's why he called the locals, knowing they'd be willing to listen since it was some type of actual proof of potential wrongdoing.

_"Allegations made by his ex-wife's daughter. She only recently came forward, and then when we checked into his new stepdaughters, and we learned that two of them were no longer in the home…"_

He shook his head, clearly frustrated with himself for not acting more quickly, and I sympathized with him, for being slow to see a fellow officer's faults. I've been down that road once or twice. Nothing as bad as with this asshole, but still…I get it.

_"Well, my apologies for not making you aware of our presence myself," _Sharon said. "_We knew the girls were being abused, but we weren't sure it was Brad until this morning, when Anna told us."_

_"No hard feelings. I'm just glad he tried to run instead of shooting his way out,"_ Gibson said, offering his hand again, presumably in preparation to leave.

"_Us, too_," Sharon agreed, and I noticed that Gibson was still shaking her hand.

"_So if I ever find myself on an investigation that leads to Los Angeles, I should…"_

He left the remark unfinished but his insinuation was clear, and I felt a rush of jealousy storm through me, the likes of which I've never experienced.

"_You should call the precinct with jurisdiction and give their captain a heads up,_" I said, thrusting my hand towards him so that he'd let go of Sharon in order to be polite.

He did, although his eyes stayed on her, and I wanted to put my arm around her, or do something that staked my claim, but I figured she wouldn't like that very much, so I merely inched towards her slightly, enough to grab his attention, and then I stood to my full height while giving him a purposeful stare.

He got the message. It's a guy thing, I guess. Fine by me, because from that point, we wrapped it up pretty quickly. Brad's going to go away for a long time, if he even makes it to trial. Pedophiles aren't very popular in jail, at least not in the good way.

I don't know what's going to happen with Gina. She'll be evaluated for her mental status, and depending on the outcome, she'll either spend time in a mental hospital, or in jail for child neglect and endangerment.

Anna was taken into the custody of social services. I hate to see that happen, but there aren't many options at this point. Still…I gave her my card, including my address and cell, so that she can contact me whenever she wants.

"Chief Taylor won't admonish me for what happened," Sharon said, unbuckling since the seatbelt sign was turned off, and then flipping up the divider between our seats and scooting closer to me. She leaned her head against me and slid one arm around my waist. "It turned out too well. It's going to make the news, at least in St. Louis, and Lt. Gibson is sharing credit with us."

"I'm sure he is," I mumbled.

She glanced up at me questioningly and I added, "He was hitting on you."

"He was not."

"_If I ever find myself in Los Angeles_," I said, mocking Gibson's voice. "Please. He wasn't even hitting on you _well._"

She laughed, holding me tighter as she said, "I didn't even notice. Why would I, when I have you?"

And then she exhaled heavily in what I think might be contentment, and I had to smile, even though I still think that we might be in some trouble when we get back.

Because even if we're in the clear about what happened at the Forrester home, due to its outcome, there's still the other matter.

The matter of us.

Sharon called Chief Taylor when we were en route to the airport, and while, as she said, he wasn't overly upset about the sequence of events because he places great value on good press, it was the last little bit of the conversation that stuck in my head.

"_As it turns out, if we hadn't arrived when we did,"_ she said, emphasizing our success. "_Anna would've been added to the list of Brad Forrester's victims."_

I do feel good about that. Anna said Brad stood in her doorway last night. If it had taken us even one more day…

"_Again, that wasn't our purpose for being here," _she stated, and I could tell at that point she was starting to get annoyed. "_It was…oh, yes, sir. Yes, I'm here with Lt. Flynn._"

I should've known he'd question her about that. If we were two male colleagues, no one would think twice about us doing some off the books investigating, but because it's a man and a woman, it's suddenly scandalous.

Of course, in our case it's_ true_, but still…

I don't know what he said after that, but then she said, _"Chief, I'm heading into the airport right now, so if it's alright with you, I'd rather discuss it when I get back. Your office, eight a.m.?"_

We weren't actually at the airport yet, so it made me worry a bit, thinking that she has to decide what to tell him, and it's still at the forefront of my mind, even as she's settled comfortably against me.

Probably because I don't know what I'll do if he makes things hard for her. I can't go back to _not_ being with her.

And honestly, the thought that she might not want to tell him worries me, too. I don't care about the rules, but she does, which would means if she doesn't disclose our relationship, then that's probably because she doesn't expect it to last long enough to go through the trouble.

"You're tense," she murmured, and she sounds like she might've been almost asleep - perfectly understandable, considering our day - but I guess I'm keeping her awake.

"I'm sorry," I said, running my hand over her hair.

"You're still worried that I'm going to be in trouble."

"Yes," I admitted. "Not for the case, but for sleeping with me. I'm wondering if I'm worth it."

She pulled back so that she could look at me, and there's so much emotion in her eyes, so much caring and affection, that it's almost impossible for me to believe it's meant for_ me_.

"I'm going to tell him the truth. We haven't broken any rules. This just turned into something, in the past couple of days, and now I'm going to report it. He doesn't have to like it, and he might threaten to transfer one of us, but he won't actually do it. It'll be okay."

She kissed me, something with promise that made me wish we weren't on an airplane, and then she settled against me again.

"And Andy, you're definitely worth it."

**TBC...**


	12. Chapter 12

**Sharon POV**

* * *

><p>"Are you ready?"<p>

I looked at Andy as we sat together in the front seat of my car, and waited for his response.

It's been two weeks since we got back from St. Louis.

It feels like longer, and yet I can also think about our first night together, in my hotel room in Stafford, and I can remember every single vivid detail, so I suppose it hasn't been all that long.

Maybe it's just that so much has changed.

When our plane landed in LA, I felt the irrational urge to stay on it, and see where it took us next.

Completely implausible, I know, but the idea of being back home, of breaking the bubble of togetherness Andy and I were able to experience over the past two days…it made me sad.

"_Don't worry,"_ Andy said as he took my hand and we headed for the baggage pickup. "_I'm not expecting an invitation tonight. But sometime soon would be nice."_

That was the problem, though. I _wanted_ him to come home with me. It was a fact that caused me some serious self-analysis, why I suddenly wanted to spend every waking minute with him.

_"I want to,_" I assured him. "_But we just have to see how this is all going to work._"

He held my gaze for a minute, and then he dropped his eyes as he nodded, and I quickly added, "_I'm not saying __**if**__ it will work. It will. It's just a matter of logistics."_

Andy seems to have trouble accepting that I love him. Although I suppose that's fair. I did such a good job of hiding it for so long, that I can't blame him for needing some time to absorb it.

Of course, he has_ now_.

But I mean, when we first got back.

We shared a taxi from the airport, and I cost us an additional $11.60 in cab fare, because I spent so long kissing him goodbye.

Money well spent.

Once I got inside, Rusty was happy to see me, and I definitely missed him, but he had questions.

"_So where's Flynn?"_

_"Andy? He's on his way home, why?"_

_"I thought…I mean, you guys…he's not coming here?"_

_"Rusty, it's been two days since I asked you about us dating. Did you think we were going to live together already?"_

_"Well, Emily said…she…um…" _

He apparently couldn't find the right words, and then he finally stopped talking altogether, which was a good thing, considering the direction he was going.

With everything that happened since I got up that morning, I'd forgotten about my phone call with Emily, the day before.

Which she obviously shared with Rusty.

I knew she would, but I guess she also told him to plan for sleepovers.

_"There are two of us living in this house,"_ I began carefully, but he held up his hand, politely asking permission to interrupt.

_"I've always said that I don't want to be a problem for you, Sharon, and I mean that. You haven't dated in all the time that I've known you, and I feel like some of that was probably because of me. And now you're with Flynn, and I'm still here, keeping you from doing what you want to do, and I can't do that to you anymore. You're always doing for everyone else, but you need to do this for you. I mean, if you want to. Just don't __**not **__do it because of me."_

His heartfelt speech brought tears to my eyes, but it also gave me some amusement.

_"I can date Andy without spending every minute with him."_

As I said the words, I realized they were in direct conflict with my earlier thoughts, but I pressed forward.

_"And I appreciate that you're supportive, but that doesn't mean…"_

_"It means you should have him over, whenever you want, without worrying about what I'll think or if it's going to scar me because of my mom…Sharon, it won't, I promise. You're nothing like her, and I mean that in the best possible way."_

He finished his remarks, and then he hugged me and said a sincere _I'm glad you're home,_ and then he was off to his room, claiming exhaustion and an early quiz.

Probably true, and it was after midnight, so I didn't worry too much about his quick departure.

Although I didn't invite Andy over.

But I did call him, once I was in bed, and I think there's something to be said for a little bit of time apart because it was such a sweet conversation that left me smiling after we finally said goodnight.

The next morning, I went to see Chief Taylor first thing, to get it over with.

I meant what I said to Andy. We'll be okay. I just hate that he's going to give me that disapproving look, and he'll probably throw around a lot of talk about superior officers and transfers, but the bottom line is that Major Crimes is the most effective division in the LAPD. We make him look good, and that's more important to him than just about anything, so he won't break up the unit.

"_Captain, do you want to tell me what you were doing in St. Louis with Lt. Flynn?"_ he asked as soon as I walked into his office.

I thought we'd already established that, and his arrogant attitude immediately put me on the defensive.

_"Identifying two girls in the L.A. morgue,_" I said crisply. "_If you recall, I asked permission to do it through Major Crimes and you said no. There aren't any regulations prohibiting me from doing a little legwork on my own, and I didn't use my badge to gain access anywhere. The SLPD was grateful for our presence, and I would think…"_

_"Captain,"_ he interrupted.

_"Yes?"_

_"You focused on the wrong part of my question. I want to know what you and __**Lt. Flynn**__ were doing…anywhere. Is there something you need to tell me?"_

It was harder to admit than I thought.

Not because I'm ashamed of Andy, or of how I feel for him, but because it's my _private_ life. Sharing with my kids was difficult enough, but Taylor…

And I could deny it, but it's going to come out eventually, so it's best just to nip it in the bud.

_"Yes," _I said at last.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled at me, but he didn't look surprised, which threw me off a little, and then he said, "_So you finally cracked."_

_"I'm sorry,"_ I said in confusion. _"I cracked?"_

_"Flynn's been walking around like a puppy dog for months. Longer, maybe. Are you sure you even want to make this notification official? Because if it's going to be over before the ink dries, I'm willing to overlook it. I mean, I know Flynn. He can be pretty persistent._"

His response was about the last thing in the world that I'd expected, and I felt angry for his belittling of Andy's feelings, as well as indignant over the idea that I would participate in a casual fling in the office.

I walked over in front of his desk and grabbed a legal pad and pen and then scrawled out _I am in a relationship with Lt. Andy Flynn, and from this point forward, I will no longer be involved in his reviews or reprimands_, and then I signed it _Captain Sharon Raydor_, added the date, and then I blew on the paper before tossing the pad over in front of him.

_"There," _I said. _"The ink's dry."_

He looked at me with incredulity and said, "_Captain, you can't be serious._"

_"Chief, we've known each other in a professional capacity for more than twenty years. Have you ever once heard of me participating in an office affair?"_

_"Well, no."_

_"And I'm not now. So yes, I'm serious, and yes, we're serious, and I don't think I'm obligated to disclose any additional information. I'll forward you any correspondence I may receive in regards to Lt. Flynn. Are we done?" _

I apparently left him speechless, but he waved in the direction of the door, so I kept my head held high and left his office.

It still angers me, just thinking about it, how he basically mocked Andy for having a crush on me. Although to his credit, in the two weeks since, he hasn't said a word about it, or at least not that I've heard.

I went back into the murder room, still with a full head of steam from the meeting with Taylor, and I found my squad in laughter.

"_I love it, sir,_" Julio was saying, holding up a bag of nuts.

_"Hey, they're Virginia nuts," _Andy said with a grin. "_They're supposed to be famous, like their hams."_

_"Thank you for not buying me a ham,"_ Amy said. She has some kind of stained glass ornament on her desk, and I saw that Mike had a four-pack of Kahlua in his hand.

"_What about me, Flynn? I don't rate a souvenir?"_ Lt. Provenza asked, and I lingered in my office doorway for a moment to watch. I hadn't realized Andy bought anyone anything, so I was touched that he did so, as well as curious.

It was also an opportunity to look at him without raising suspicions. Just because we're telling Taylor doesn't mean we're telling anyone else. At least not yet. And I _like_ looking at him, so I'll take full advantage of these situations when they present themselves.

"_Sure, I did,"_ Andy responded, and he reached into a bag and tossed a t-shirt at his partner, who then held it up in front of him, which sparked another round of laughter from everyone but him.

He glanced down at the logo on the shirt and scowled.

"_Virginia is for lovers? What the hell kind of gift is this?"_ he asked, and then he looked at me purposefully before shifting his accusatory gaze back to Andy, and suddenly the room fell silent.

_"The captain and I spent forty-eight hours together," _Andy began, and I was silently praying that he _wasn't _about to say what I thought he was going to say. "_And during that time we found the names for two unidentified girls, we saved a third girl from impending abuse, we arrested a pedophile posing as a cop...so tell me exactly when we were supposed to behave inappropriately? Jeez, Provenza, it's the state tourism motto, not a statement of disclosure. Get over it."_

His words had everyone else chuckling, only this time at Provenza, and honestly, it was pure genius. Surely the lieutenant wasn't the only one thinking that something might have happened between us while we were away, so this way, Andy got it out there before anyone could start speculating.

Lt. Provenza looked properly remorseful, and then grumbled a thank you before shoving the t-shirt into a drawer, and I went into my office.

As I went around my desk, I noticed something new sitting on top of it.

A small ceramic unicorn.

_"Hey, Captain,"_ Andy said as he poked his head through the door.

_"You bought me this?"_ I asked, still looking at the pretty little statue, and I know it was a silly question, since he obviously did, but it was such a sweet gesture.

_"Universal beauty,_" he said quietly. "_How could I pass that up?"_

I looked over at him, where he remained in the doorway, and even though I swore I wouldn't think illicit thoughts about him while at work, I did, in that moment.

He just looked so handsome and my mind flashed onto how his hands feel on my skin, and how he was awake in the middle of the night, wanting to tell me he loves me.

"_Come over tonight,_" I said, and I meant it to come out as a question, but it sounded more like a demand. Like a need, although I suppose that's what it was.

He smiled broadly and nodded at me, and then I got a handle on myself and said, "_Nice misdirection, with the t-shirt. You knew how he'd respond."_

_"He's easy,"_ he said with a shrug. "_When I saw it, I couldn't resist."_

He went back to his desk, and I got to work, and then later a case came in, and the day passed like any other. I did make a phone call to Dr. Morales, to bring him up to speed on what happened with the girls, and then he told me what he wanted to do, and I whole-heartedly agreed.

But I'll come back to that.

That night, Andy came over for dinner.

And he stayed the night.

It didn't feel strange at all, and I think it must be because it's Andy, and Rusty _likes_ him, but whatever the reason, Rusty acted as if it were an everyday occurrence, so I was relaxed about it by the time we went to bed.

_"Finally,"_ Andy said, flopping onto my bed and putting his hands behind his head.

_"What?"_

_"I get to see what Sharon Raydor wears to bed,"_ he stated, as if it were a burning question in everyone's mind. _"Go on, don't mind me. Just pretend I'm not here."_

_"Well, I wasn't planning on wearing anything at all,"_ I said as I unbuttoned my blouse and then tossed it in the direction of the chair. I had his complete attention at that point, and it's such a confidence boost to see the desire in his eyes. I'm not sure anyone's ever looked at me the way that he does.

I took off my slacks, and then I gave him a smile and said playfully, "_But if you want me to put on a nightgown, I can."_

Then I reached behind me to unhook my bra, and before it hit the floor, he was on me, his arms around me and his lips on my neck, on my breasts, and his hands sliding down into the back of my underwear…I can't believe how much I missed this, how being apart from him for one night made me almost desperate for it. Andy, too, apparently, because he couldn't seem to touch me enough, and I love how even when he seems in a hurry, he _doesn't_ hurry…he pulled me down onto the bed and cherished every inch of me, and when he had me to the point where I couldn't wait another second - and he doesn't know it, but I was _right_ on the verge of begging - he finally moved into me, and it felt _so _good, and not just _that_, although that too, but I mean being with him in general just felt so perfect, and I was glad I'd already said it once, because there was no stopping the words that came from my mouth, when I said, _God, I love you, Andy_, and he paused, holding my gaze for a moment as the pleasure swept across his face, and then he said the words back to me, and then he started to move, measured and strong, and I couldn't think of anything except for how good he feels and how much I love him.

_"That was a first for this bed," _I told him, much later, once we were under the covers, and yes, I was dressed in my cotton nightgown, the sight of which gave him great satisfaction. "_I think it held up pretty well."_

He looked at me for a moment, and then it finally hit him what I meant.

_"You're kidding me, right? I mean, I know not recently, but you and Jack never…"_

He didn't finish the sentence, and I think we were both glad of that, but then I said, "_I got a new bed a few years ago. Just before Rusty moved in. I'd made up my mind that I was done with Jack, and I figured, out with the old, in with the new."_

_"And I'm the new,_" he said with a grin. "_I like that."_

_"You're going to be the __**only**_**,**" I corrected.

_"I __**really**_ _like that,_" he said, pulling me more securely against him and kissing the top of my head.

_"I like that, too."_

Since that night, we've spent eleven out of the next twelve together. One night, we were out all night working a case, so neither of us went to bed. It's gone smoothly on all fronts: me and Andy, me and Andy and Rusty, work…at the risk of sounding cheesy, I can't help but feel like this thing between us was meant to be. We like each other and we love each other, we respect each other and we communicate, and we're really great together in bed. I'm not sure it gets any better.

So this morning, I got the call I've been waiting for from Dr. Morales, and the timing couldn't have been better because we just wrapped up a case yesterday afternoon.

"_Ten o'clock,_" he said, and then he gave me an address, so at nine-thirty, I got the squad together and we made the drive, to where we are now.

"I'm ready," Andy answered. "But what are we doing here?"

We got out of the car, and as the other squad members joined us, we saw Dr. Morales up on the hill, so I led the group, crossing the grass to where he stood.

"Oh my God," I heard Andy say softly, and his quiet astonishment brought tears to my eyes.

"I had to do my part," the doctor said, and then he looked down to where our attention was focused.

The two headstones, side by side: one marked for Lucita Hermosa and the other for Marcella.

"I fudged the paperwork on Lucita, keeping her around long enough, in hopes that you guys would give her a name, and you did, so…since the mother made no claim on them, I figured the least I could do was give them both a proper burial. I have some friends in the mortuary business, so…"

The priest began the service, and the nine of us - Andrea included - stood in honor of the two little girls.

It was emotional and poignant, and as it neared its end, I glanced at Andy and I could see that he was getting choked up, completely moved by the entire gesture, and my love for him was nearly overwhelming, so I made a decision. I sidled up next to him and took his hand, lacing my fingers through his as I leaned into him for support.

The move didn't go unnoticed, of that I have no doubt, but I knew that before I did it.

And it wasn't really a difficult decision to make.

Really just three little facts.

I don't see the need for secrets anymore.

We're amongst friends here.

And I love him.

And that's really all that matters.

**The End.**


End file.
